Envinyatar Uren (Renewer of My Heart)
by Isilendil
Summary: Anariel is the younger sister of Anarion and Isildur and carrying a deep sorrow she travels to Osgilliath during a siege. She and her brother, Isildur, escape to Lindon where the Last Alliance begins to mold. (Gil-galad/OC... NC-17 for later chapters!!!)
1. Lament of the Heart

Envinyatar Uren (Renewer of My Heart) 

by Isilendil

disclaimer: The plot is based on Tolkien. Anariel is mine.

description: "Man nin envinya silme elenion? elye, Gil-galad…" [Who now will renew the light of the stars for me? you, Gil-galad…] 

*

Prologue: Lament of the Heart 

She stood there, silent, by one of the narrow arched windows of the tower of Minas Anor.  The evening was grey, the rain falling hard. Her long fiery red hair was tied back in a single braid and her gown of long dark green wool. Her emerald eyes looked out to east, looking towards Minas Ithil a deep foreboding stirring within her.

Three days had passed. Three dark rainy days and no word from Minas Ithil. Even her older brother, Anarion was worried and he was biding his time before he sent a scout to Minas Ithil to discover why it had been silent. Anariel stared out sensing the cold air but not paying any mind to it. She closed her eyes for a moment. Riordan, her husband was at Minas Ithil. Riordan was there.

Anariel shivered and crossed her arms over her chest protectively. Where were the messengers? Why have they not come in so long? Part of her wanted to run to her brother and bid him send a scout immediately. It had been too long and both her husband and her eldest brother, Isildur, were too close to the border of Mordor for her liking. 

'And I fear for him… I fear for him deeply.'  

Two horns sounded from the gate. Anariel looked down. A rider! A rider has arrived! She ran through the halls swiftly. She had to find Anarion.

*

She entered into the great hall, breathless, where Anarion and a messenger with the colors of Osgilliath upon him were exchanging converse with grim looks upon their faces.

"What is it?" She asked him looking at solemn look on his face.

"I must go to Osgilliath." He said impassively. Fear made her heart skip a beat. Anariel looked at the messenger and saw that blood stained his tunic. A cold feeling clutched her heart and swept through her in a shiver. 

"Anarion…" She looked at him bidding he continue, her voice quivering, "What has happened?"

Her older brother approached her and gave her a strong in embrace. "Minas Ithil has been taken." She heard the underlying sorrow in his voice and knew that it had been bad. With those words visions of horror went through her mind recalling the nightmares she had had days earlier.

Blood. Terror. Shadows riding and bringing with them the portent of fear and frozen cold. Swords of black flame.

Riordan! Isildur! She wanted to scream out but her voice seemed frozen in her throat.

No…

Anariel ran from the room, this was too much to take. Her heart sank in her chest and she could not breathe. "Riordan…!" She hissed the whisper. Finally she approached her own chambers and slammed the door behind her. Riordan. Isildur. Dead.

She sank down to the ground her tears cold. "No! No!" She screamed feeling a wave of terrible sadness. She could not move. She could not breathe.

Anariel did what she could only do. 

She wept.

*

For five days she lay in her bed, her face pale in an expression of death. Her tears stained her eyes and her face. She had not moved from her sorrow. She had no thought and all she felt was cold. 

She heard nothing, her vision blurred by her endless tears. Sometimes she though she saw him. Riordan in her arms. Riordan telling her everything would be well again. Riordan's laughter in her ear. His kiss upon her lips. But then he would fade away being only a phantom of her sadness.

Riordan… Isildur…

She closed her eyes letting some good memory take her.

*

He laughed loudly. The captain of Isildur's guard drank his draught against his lord. Isildur smiled. "You're a brave man! Riordan! To face me in a drinking contest!"

"I have strength in me yet!" Riordan said his blue eyes sparkling. The other men around them laughed. Anarion entered with a lady gowned in scarlet behind him. Riordan, partly drunk and partly sensible, stood up immediately and bowed.

"My lord! Would you join us in our game!" asked Riordan.

"Indeed." laughed Isildur putting down his cup.

"Is this your manners with a lady about?" Anarion asked his grey eyes gleaming and he grinned at his brother Isildur.

"Forgive me, my lord!" said Riordan as he looked up to the fair lady before him. Long red hair and bright green eyes like elven beryls. _She is indeed beautiful…_ "I did not know you had a wife."

Isildur choked on his drink and let out a great laugh.

"Riordan," said Anarion looking at Isildur who was just about dying of mirth, "Allow me to introduce you to our younger sister, Anariel." He told him, the men about him also laughed. Riordan felt heat touch his cheeks.

 "My lady, I…" She smiled at him bemused.

"Forgiven Riordan, and well met!" She laughed as she allowed him to kiss her hand.

"What do you think Anarion?" asked Isildur looking at the two, "I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."

"Shut up, Isildur." She told him nonchalantly. Riordan looked curiously at them. Brother and sister most certainly they were.

"Indeed, my lord," Riordan said in jest but looked into her eyes in affection, "She just might marry me and you'll be choking on your drink yet again."

"You're a good man, Riordan." said Anarion in good humor as he sat by his older brother.

"Meant to be a jester as well, I'm sure." replied Isildur.

"Ah! But a mighty jester with a sword. A jester even orcs would fear." Anarion told him bidding the squire fill another cup, "Now how many cups are you at?"

*

She missed him deeply and it seemed that each memory came to her more vivid than the last. Anariel cursed herself. She should have listened to her earlier feelings, to her nightmares which warned her so! Help could have arrived to Minas Ithil! Riordan might have lived.

So lost was she in her sorrow and regrets that she did not hear the door open nor did she see a man approach her in soiled clothing, and rain soaked hair.

"Anariel! I am here!" 

She looked up, in disbelief. There stood Isildur before her and behind him was the silent figure of Anarion.

"Isildur…?" She whispered. He took her up and embraced her. Was this another dream? Another illusion? She felt her brother's breath, scented the rain upon him. This was real. He was here! "Isildur!" She returned his tight embrace.

"I am here, little sister, I am well." He told her in a breathless whisper. She didn't care if he was dirty. She could care less if blood stained his clothing. He was here. It was all that mattered. 

She didn't know how long they locked in each other's embrace but finally they parted.

"I am sorry." He told her in a whisper clutching her shoulder, "Riordan is dead." She swallowed down any more tears that she had and decided to concentrate on the miracle before her. Isildur was here! He was alive!

"How did you escape?" She asked him though weariness was still in her tone, "How did he die?" She asked more quietly.

"He fought bravely, Anariel, strong was he at my side among my guards. He took down several orcs and took the blow from the wraith that was meant for me." Isildur told her quietly. "I managed to escape across the Anduin and I came here to seek Anarion. We have to go to Osgilliath for Sauron's forces have laid siege there."

Anger shot through her.

"I will go with you." She told him a thick resolve in her voice.

"Anariel, you shall not." said Isildur.

"My husband is dead." She said emotion taking her voice, "I'll not sit here and be useless. The more hands you have helping you against the enemy the better."

"I would not see you die." Isildur argued.

"And I, you." Anariel retorted and she looked at Anarion, "Here we stand, the three children of Elendil, if we fight then let us fight together, and if we die then we shall die together as well!" She nearly shouted feeling a fire run through her veins. Anger. Remorse. Her sadness slowly hardened into heated passion. "I will avenge my husband." She seethed.

"Anariel, I cannot…" Isildur began.

"Why can't you!" She yelled standing up feeling tears sting her eyes once more. She stood up and abruptly took a vase and slammed it to the nearest wall, She fell to her knees seeing Riordan in her mind. Slain by a wraith. Slain by a wraith with its black sword.

"Why…?" She whispered wrapping her arms across herself letting her tears run freely. Now they were not cold. They stung like an icy fire. Isildur and Anarion kneeled down beside her and wrapped their arms around their younger sister feeling her pain, like the flames of a raging fire, run through them as well.

"Anariel…" whispered Isildur giving a deep sigh into her hair. He too saw Minas Ithil in his mind how they had been caught off guard. How they had been surprised in the middle of the night. Shadows, cold shadows from the east had come upon them like a silent and deadly wind. Isildur had barely escaped.

They stood by her for a long moment, letting her lament and feeling her pain.

"She speaks truly." Anarion told his older brother quietly after a while, after she had ceased her tears and sat in silence. "We are indeed the children of Elendil and we should stand together and fall together if that may be." He said in a whisper.

Isildur met his eyes. He did not like the idea at all.

"Come," Anarion said as he helped her up, "Both of you should get yourselves cleaned up and changed. We shall discuss these matters afterwards."

*

She stood by the window where she oft waited for her husband, for news, for a letter. She swallowed letting the wind dance in her hair as she stared at the starless sky. She let her voice rise in it and she finally sang the lament in her heart.

Dark is the night and starless the sky

but deep in your heart does light yet lie.

Riordan! The Northern Wind does sing to you!

Heed its call! Oh! Riordan!

Swift it shall be to carry you, even as I long,

towards the forests filled with elven song!

Dark is the night with haunting call

but deep is your heart with peaceful lull

Riordan! The Southern Wind does sing to you!

Heed its call! Oh! Riordan!

Swift it shall be to carry you, the gull's cry,

the great white ships whose silver sails do kiss the sky!

Dark is the night and endless the shadows,

but deep is your heart of strength and mettle.

Riordan! The Western Wind does sing to you!

Heed its call! Oh! Riordan!

Swift it shall be to carry you, off and afar

across the great seas, beyond the veils of dreams!

And of the eastern wind she spoke not of. She swallowed looking towards Minas Ithil, looking towards the fallen tower. She felt Isildur come up behind her his hands clutching her shoulders.

"Come," He said softly, "Sleep a while, tomorrow night we are off." Anariel nodded slowly and turned to follow him.

*

Author's Note: say… looks like I have something going on here. Whew! And all off the top of my head too! REVIEW PLEASE!


	2. The Siege of Osgilliath

**To the Reviewers: **Anyone who has read into the "Histories of Middle Earth"… What exactly happens to Anarion and how does he end up in Lindon? I know Osgilliath falls but then what? Thank you plenty ;) much Love, Isilendil 

*

Chapter 1: The Siege of Osgilliath 

"Here." said Anarion taking a map from the shelf and unrolling it before the table. The herald from Osgilliath, Bowen, looked down at it, it was a map of his city, "Where is the dark lord's minions taking their blows?" He asked him Anarion looked at the messenger. He was young and fair of face, naught but a page.

"There, on the eastern wall." The younger man pointed, "The Steward, Abelard, sent equal fortification on all four sides, my lords, but I fear that the eastern wall shall not stand long."

Isildur paced behind then staring out at the grey morning sky. It seemed as if the sun refused to shine in the days ahead. "Abelard has taken a precautionary tactic." Anarion told his brother, "He did not know where the attacks were going to come from."

"They have Minas Ithil." Isildur said still staring out the window, "I would not doubt that they are using it as a base for planning their attacks." Isildur's grey eyes focused steadily on the young page, "Lad, how many of the enemy's host are at Osgilliath's eastern wall?" Bowen was suddenly uncomfortable under Isildur's gaze.

"When I left Osgilliath, yesterday, the last count was about twelve thousand orcs." Bowen said met by Anarion's grim expression, "We had already heard the message hours before that Minas Ithil had been under siege, so though slim a time it was between the take of Minas Ithil and the attack upon our walls the Steward ordered all the walls fortified and archers ready at each gate."

"They plan to take Osgilliath down." Anarion said grimly, "Twelve thousand orcs." He whispered in thought.

"Aye." agreed Isildur his eyes deep in thought, "It is likely that number has doubled in the last day, the shadow of Mordor has awakened."  

"It is evident Sauron had prepared these attacks before hand." Anarion said, "And he probably waited for the opportunity when we were caught unawares."

"He bided his time, Anarion." said Isildur, "He let us soften and feel safety at his border and we have been slack in our vigil." Anarion looked at his brother in grim agreement.

"Then we have to show Sauron that we have not been slack on our strength." 

*

Anariel walked through the halls of Minas Ithil quietly letting her thoughts wander to trivial things. She did not want to think of death. She swallowed as she stared out at the faded green fields and the walls and homes below. But everything suddenly seemed to remind her of Riordan. She closed her eyes for a moment remembering. His dark hair and blue eyes, his strong arms and his ready smile for any jest, even when the situation was naught to jest about.

She opened her eyes again and gave a deep sigh. She could not stand here useless. She made that promise to herself. If there was a war to fight then she too would help fight it if need be but she would not remain the sorry widow waiting to die herself as many did.

"My lady," came a gentle voice from behind her, she didn't turn around to know who it was. Anariel frowned. That voice she knew well and she didn't like him at all already she could see his long sandy colored hair and hazel eyes. "I have heard about your loss and I am sorry." He told her.

"Valerian, I do not need your pity." She told him in a soft but cold voice. The man had been an old rival of Riordan and had wanted to marry Anariel but she would not have him.

He came up next to her and Anariel bristled. She didn't like the fact that he was near her at all. He irritated her in every way possible. She felt his eyes bore into her, she did her best to ignore him but found herself fidgeting. She never liked Valerian. He was too ambitious, too cocky.

"I would ask for forgiveness, lady, for the old rivalry I had with Riordan." Valerian told her. Anariel remained silent staring off to the distance. Forgiveness? After all the black eyes and cut lips and… 

She sighed. It was not proper to leave a dead man of Gondor without his dues paid. Tradition has it that one's old woes should be buried with the dead. Anariel swallowed almost wincing at her own thoughts; she fought back her tears. No, not now, not in front of Valerian.

"Granted." She murmured still looking out and avoiding his eyes. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence between them.

"Lady, I beg of you not to look away from me." Valerian said quietly, "Although years have passed my love for you has no waned." Anariel turned to him her eyes flashing. How dare he…?!

"Valerian, you have no right to proclaim this in front of me!" She snapped and started to brush past him. Valerian clutched her arm.

"Lady! I beg you! Hear me!"

"I shall not!" Anariel retorted, "Release me!" Suddenly his countenance changed and he only tightened his grip grasping her other arm as well. She felt a surge of terror fill her for the look in his eyes were menacing and she gasped as he shook her for a moment.

"Anariel!" He hissed his eyes glittering with something dark, "Listen to me!"

**_"Is there a problem here, Lord Valerian!" _**Boomed an angry voice from behind her. Valerian immediately released her. Anariel stumbled back and Isildur caught her.

If the look in Valerian's eyes earlier were menacing, thought Anariel looking at her elder brother, then if looks could kill Valerian would be a smoldering ruin now. She fought the wry smile that threatened to embellish her lips.

"Nay, my lord." Valerian said nervously under Isildur's gaze.

"Get out of my sight." Isildur said his tone dangerously low. The man was quick to comply, "Are you alright?" He asked her.

"Unscathed." She told him then smiled, "Need you always come to my rescue?"

Isildur grinned, "No matter what, you'll still be the little sister."

Anarion rounded the corner and saw them, "I saw Valerian and he looked none to happy." He said and looked to Anariel, "Did something happen between you?"

"Oh, nothing that couldn't be taken care of." Isildur said looking at her grinning.

"If he approaches you again, Anariel," Anarion said, "Tell us and we shall settle the score with him."

Anariel sighed, "You need not give him a death sentence on my account." She said warily.

"Of course not." Anarion told her catching Isildur's eyes, "Eternity in the dungeon isn't so harsh."

"Or exile to Mordor." Isildur said good naturedly.

_"Isildur! Anarion!"_ Anariel exclaimed.

A rare sound echoed through the stone halls. They laughed together in spite of the storm yet to come.

*

"My lords!" said a page. "The horses are ready!" Anariel tightened her crimson cloak about herself. 

"Good," said Anarion, "We must ride fast if we are to make it to Osgilliath."

"Swift." said Bowen the young herald. "My lady, shall you ride well with us?"

"My lad, believe me, she'll ride quite well with us," Isildur said, "It would be more that you worry if we can keep up with her."

"Let's not talk here all day." Anariel said seriously, "We have a city to save."

"Agreed," said Anarion, "We ride!"

*

They rode off in haste from Minas Anor, in the dark of night. Anariel wore her white gown, since it was the lightest of her dresses, grey boots, and her red cloak embellished with the heralds of Minas Anor. Anarion wore a similar cloak but Isildur maintained his blue cloak with the heralds of Minas Ithil holding some hope that he should reclaim it from Sauron's forces. Behind them also came the messenger from Osgilliath, two banner bearers and five guards.

No word was spoken between them but Anariel felt the strong resolve of her two brothers not to let Osgilliath fall. _If Osgilliath falls so will Minas Anor… so will Gondor. _The thought troubled her. Their horses moved as if carried by the wind, Anariel herself had never rode a horse so swiftly and never before had she really carried a sword but she was forced to at Isildur's bidding. 

Already they could see the gleaming white towers of Osgilliath and its white walls.  Anariel felt her stomach twist at seeing black smoke rise from within her walls, some of the buildings had been lit aflame. She could hear at least three horns being sounded from afar, and they called for help.

"That is not good!" Isildur called to Anarion as they rode.

"How long will her walls stand!?" asked Anarion as their horses quickened to the fastest pace they could manage.

"They were built to take much, but I do not know what stands at her eastern walls to measure!" Isildur said as he fumbled with his own horn. He let out a loud blow in answer from it as they neared Osgilliath's western gate.

*

"Isildur and Anarion have come!" yelled out a watch man looking off below. "Open the Western Gate! Open the Western Gate!" He called out to the men below. They hastened to comply.

*

They were let in and the gate swiftly closed behind them. Anariel felt the confusion around them. There were people and troops running about and transferring weapons and supplies to the eastern wall. "Where is the steward?! Where is Abelard?!" Isildur demanded from one of the guards. He pointed to the east.

"He is commanding our forces at the Eastern Gate, my lord! A great host of the enemy has gathered there!" The guard clad in blue reported. 

"How many?" Anarion demanded.

"I am not sure, lord, I have been ordered to help fortify the Western Gate." He told them, "But I'd say too many to count."

"Then we shall meet with him there." Isildur said and looked to the guard captains that had rode with them. "Broderick! Thorald! Aylwin! Each of you! Pick a gate and help organize the archers there! Fly!" The three quickly talked amongst each other and ran to their orders.

"Come! We must find Abelard!" Isildur said. Anariel simply followed her two brothers, they crossed over a wide stone bridge over the Anduin and she saw the line of people hauling water to the eastern wall. Anariel finally noticed the fires that were spreading over the roof tops. Many of the people looked at them hopefully glad that their lords arrived.

Arrows, lit with fire flew over the walls hitting roof tops and some soldiers. Anariel's steed dodged a falling beam and quickly went around it to the side of Anarion. Smoke and debris covered the streets as well as some fallen soldiers. She swallowed hard. She had never seen such a siege. As they neared the Western wall the arrows increased, some of them stray black points.

As soon as they reached the Eastern Wall the three of them dismounted and Isildur dispersed the rest of his party to duties. "My lords! In here!" called a captain. It seemed they had made a stable into their planning fortress, since its stone walls guarded well from arrows. They threw back their hoods and Anariel did her best not to shudder at the screams she heard outside. Some were orders being yelled, others were of pain and death. It seemed as if Osgilliath was swept up in confusion.

"How many do we have against us, Master Archer?" Isildur asked him looking down at the spread out parchment of the city map he had spread out on the table.

"At least twenty thousand. Orcs mainly, and wargs, being led by nine shadow riders."

"Wraiths." Isildur cursed under his breath remembering the creatures that had over taken him in Minas Ithil.

"And most likely the Witch King among them." added Anarion grimly.

"We are in an uproar." came a sad voice from behind them. Anariel looked at the Steward, his beard long and grey and his head bruised, "This is Gildor of Imladris, my lords." He added gesturing to the elf with golden hair and silver eyes who stood behind the steward respectfully.

"Well met, when did you arrive here?" Isildur asked.

"I have been here since the siege began." Gildor said his voice soft and light though there was tension in it, "You're walls will not hold out much longer."

Anarion studied the map they had looking at the dispersal of their forces. It seemed that Abelard had spread them out evenly between the gates, it was not a bad tactic but Anarion knew that with twenty thousand at the Eastern Gate things would be grim indeed.

"The Western Wall," he said looking up, "It does not need all that fortification, it is yet the safest of all the gates."

"Agreed." Isildur said, "You should transfer them to the Eastern Gate where they are most needed."

"Done, my lords." Abelard said looking at one of the soldier's nearby who rushed upon a horse to send the orders.

"How fare your healing houses?" asked Anariel. Abelard looked at her grimly.

"They have been burned to useless rubble, my lady, we have moved many of our wounded into larger stables near the Anduin. Our dead are yet uncounted but there are yet many wounded to move."  She looked to her brothers.

"I will go help aid the wounded." she told them. 

"I shall go with her," said Gildor, "I have helped enough at the battle, now that the two of you have arrived perhaps you shall be able to keep things more organized," He looked at Anariel, "My gifts will be needed elsewhere."

Isildur nodded, "Go then, and go swiftly, and be careful of the arrows!"

"One more thing, my lords." Gildor said, "Even if you do fortify the Eastern Gate with the other men it might hold out longer, but not as long as you may hope. You may have to leave Osgilliath before it falls and seek aid from Lindon." 

"You're advise is heard, Gildor, and kept." Anarion told the elf then looked at Isildur grimly, "But we shall have to hold out as long as we can here for now."

Gildor nodded and looked at Anariel. "Then we shall go help the wounded."

*

"You are the sister of Anarion and Isildur?" asked Gildor as they ran past the arrows toward the center of the city where they had moved the wounded.

"Yes, forgive my lack of manners earlier, I am Anariel." She told him. There was more burning debris coming from buildings. More people were shouting orders.

"More water!" called a local man. Pails were rushing up in a line and they were working restlessly to put out the flames.

"Well met, my lady!" Gildor told her over the racket, "You are brave to come here! I take it your brothers put up an argument!" How insightful elves are, thought Anariel.

"Yes, indeed they did!" She replied. 

"Here! In there!" said Gildor pointing to the stables. They walked in. Anariel looked over the wounded with eyes wide. There were over a hundred and only a handful healers nearby.

"Where do we start?" She said in a whisper. Gildor rolled up his sleeves.

"Wherever we can." Gildor said with a frown, "For only half of these men will live at best." 

*

Three dark days had passed and it was night once more. Anariel sighed deeply and sadly closing the eyes of a young soldier who had just died before her. She could still hear the screams outside the stables and the voices of dark things from outside being carried by the eastern wind.

She felt a soft hand touch her shoulder. "Gildor tells me you have not eaten nor slept in these three days." said Isildur. She looked at him feeling a heaviness in her heart. So many had died. So many had left wives lonely somewhere. She looked about her and realized she was not the only one that grieved, there were wives and mothers here besides the healers by the sides of their sons and husbands, of their brothers.

"There has not been a moment to rest or eat." She told him. She dared not think of food for two great was the butchery about her. Bloodies faces, pierced chests and arms from arrows, poisoned victims with bloodshot eyes and violet-colored wounds, burns and bruises, fevers from infections. Isildur put her cloak around her.

"You and I are going to Lindon to seek aid from father and Gil-galad of the Noldor." Isildur told her she looked up at him, "The enemy is now distracted with Anarion's forces at the Easter Wall, Gildor is equipping a small corsair at the Southern Gate and we are going down the Anduin and sail up toward Lindon."

"But what of Anarion?" She asked standing up worry creasing her brow.

"Anarion will have to defend Osgilliath until help arrives." He told her. "But we have not time. We must go tonight." She looked around her.

"But there are so many to care for, Isildur! And so little healers!" She cried out, "Would it not be better if I were to remain here?" She asked.

"Nay!" He snapped rather protectively. He shook his head, "I mean… No, Anariel. Father has not seen you in three years, let us go to Lindon, you are clever and perhaps you can help us yet." She looked into her brother's grey eyes darkly.

"And what if help comes too late to Osgilliath?" She asked him gravely.

"I will not ponder on that." Isildur told her, "Come."

*

Author's Note: Alas… the sky looks dark for the three of them! Hmm… Lindon… Please do me a favor… REVIEW! Heh… or no next chapter.


	3. Escape to Lindon

Envinyatar Uren, Renewer of My Heart 

by Isilendil

**To the Reviewers: **mind telling me whether or not you like the mood of this story? Do you want it to get darker or brighter? Do you want some humor? Well I figure you are expecting love…

* Chapter 2: Escape to Lindon 

"May the Valar bless your journey, my lord!" said one of the captain guardsmen. "And may the winds quicken your sails!"

"And may your walls stand firm!"  Isildur told him as he boarded the small ship. Gildor walked steadily behind them. Anariel heard the brief exchange between the guard and Gildor.

"If the Eastern Gate should fall," said Gildor, "Let all your captains sound their horns at once, for the elves of Lorien shall hear it from afar."

"Yes, sir." said the guardsmen. She glanced back at Gildor warily, the thought didn't please her at the least though the elf did speak realistically. Gildor came up between them as they came to the deck.

"The eastern winds shall try to waylay us." Gildor told them, "The dark lord will call the storms against us, for his eye is pointed here and he knows of what we intend to do."

"Let him know." Isildur said some malice in his tone, "Let him know that we intend for him to fall and we intend to do it soon."

Anariel looked at the tension in her brother's eyes. He too was worried about Anarion.

"Open the gate!" called Isildur as soon as everything was settled. The Southern Gate, on the waters of the Anduin, was opened and off went the small corsair toward the sea.

On the banks of the Anduin people cheered loudly and cheered out blessings for their safety and success.

*

Anariel watched as Osgilliath slowly faded from her view only the lights from the torches of its walls shone and the smoldering smoke from fires quenched. But flickering flaming arrows still flew with their evil intent of burning the city. "Be safe, Anarion." She whispered, "May the Valar keep you."

"Come join us, lady, in the galley." said Gildor as he managed a smile, "Your brother wishes that you eat something and I too feel that the lady should not go on any longer without food and some warm wine."

She nodded slowly and followed Gildor to the galley where Isildur and a few other men, as well as young pages sat and ate.

"Come eat, Anariel." Isildur told her and he filled a cup for her. She sat across from him and Gildor took a seat next to her. Her face was still filled with some sorrow but with a heated determination as well.

"Thank you."  she said softly accepting the cup. Isildur smiled and stood up raising his cup.

"Men! I call a toast! To the most fair and brave and tireless of ladies in Gondor! To Anariel!" He called out. 

"To Anariel!" They toasted. She managed a smile, her first smile within a fortnight. She raised an eyebrow at her brother.

"Are you trying to cheer me up?" Anariel asked him.

"Is it working?" he asked in return sitting down. She grinned and came up to him giving him a long hug.

"Awww…!" the men jested. Gildor smiled.

"Oh shut up." She told them and sat back down, but managed to forget her worries a while, "How long is Lindon from here?" She asked them.

"About three weeks away." Isildur told her, "But only a fortnight if the weather remains kind to us." 

"I pray that will be the case." said Gildor, "But let us forget our pains now, and eat together and laugh and jest, for we still have to go down the Anduin and let us enjoy its calm waters while it lasts."

*

Later that night Anariel lay in her cot and stared out her window. It was so dark. She hated the darkness. She wished the stars would just for a moment show their faces if only to bring her a moment of peace. Gildor rested on the cot across from hers, and Isildur on the one against the wall. As lulling as Isildur's soft snores were she could not sleep. She sighed and shifted in her bed. 

She was almost afraid to sleep. It had been her nightmares that foretold the death of Riordan. She did not wish to have such nightmares of Anarion. She did not wish the see the destruction of Osgilliath in her dreams. _I pray that shall never be. She thought. There seemed to be no comfort in sleep anymore._

"My lady," came Gildor's soft voice, "You are restless?" It was more of an observation on his part.

She turned to him. Nearly four hours into the night had passed and she had thought Gildor was asleep. She had long forgotten the senses of elves.

"I don't wish to sleep Gildor. I fear I'll have a nightmare." She told him softly.

"While we were in Osgilliath," Gildor said, "Anarion told me you dream of things, and often you dream of the future."  Her throat felt dry, there were few she divulged this information to. Her brothers knew of her strange gift, but they rarely spoke about it to others.

"Yes," she whispered closing her eyes for a moment in thought. _Riordan! How I wish you were here! She suddenly wished for the comfort of her husband's arms. "I… I saw the fall of Minas Ithil." Her voice quivered, "It is a curse I suffer, for if my dreams show dark things then dark things shall become." She told him softly._

"Lady, it is not a curse you suffer." Gildor told her, "It is a gift and do not be so sure that all you see will become for the future is like the waves of the oceans, many are its possibilities but only that which crashes is the sure truth." He said, "There are those among elves who have the same gift, and they use it as warning, for the future can be changed."

"Your words are wise, Gildor." She told him softly, "But they bring me little comfort."

"Would a song of the elves lull you then, lady?" asked Gildor, in the darkness his eyes sparkled as stars, "For certainly, I doubt that Isildur's snoring will."

Anariel stifled her laughter.

"I heard that." growled Isildur.

"Still alert, my lord?" asked Gildor with a grin.

"Goodnight, sir." Isildur muttered and pulled the blanket over him.

"I would hear a song, Gildor, if it should bring me a peaceful sleep." Anariel told him.

"Then a song you shall have."

*

Upon the western hill of Eriador 

stood an elven lord of old

his eyes the blue of the endless sky

his hair of golden twine

so shines the star of Gil-galad

still young and restless in his years

for from him dwells the light of elvenese

his song is the wind in autumn leaves.

A! Elbereth! He sang aloud,

Gilthoniel! My lady proud!

would thou yet hear my song?

For they call me king in Ennorath

but am I ready? am I strong?

Who hath the answers? Elbereth!

For here upon the western shore

I hear your whisper from afar

and I yet long for Eldamar…

But so they crowned him King of Ennorath

of all the trees, and birds, and elves,

in all the lands where they yet dwell

was he the one strong lord among them,

and so he rode, far, at last,

from Lorien, Eregion, and Imladris

to the havens west in Mithlond

where now he calls his home…__

*

Anariel slept that night. For once, a peaceful sleep with visions of the western seas and of the stars she so longed for. "Sleep well, lady." Gildor whispered, "And pray the morning will come soon and with it the sun."

* 

The morning came indeed, but there was no sun. The clouds were still heavy and dark as they neared the mouth of the Anduin. Anariel pulled her cloak tightly around her. The winds had indeed grown colder and the current below then began speeding them toward the sea. 

Isildur came up next to her his face in a grim mask. "The sky forebodes a storm." He said to her.

"Then let us pray to the seas for our safety." Anariel said quietly. It didn't take much of the worry from Isildur's face. She clasped his hand, "Dear brother, if fate be on our side then we shall make it, fear not." She told him honestly.

Isildur stared out at the dark waters ahead. "May the western winds yet warm our sails toward Lindon." He whispered. Anariel smiled. 

"And may the stars yet smile down upon us and Earendil show us the way." She added to his blessing.

Gildor walked to the side of Isildur at the head of the ship.

"This weather is not boding well." the elf told them.

"We shall get through it." Isildur stated, "We must."

"Yes," Anariel agreed, "For Anarion's sake, we must."

*

Two days into the journey and a storm had decided to present itself, and it presented itself loudly. The sky had become pitch black and rains hard and unrelenting. The sky above them thundered and the ship was naught but a feather upon the tumultuous waves.

Anariel cleaved herself to one of the masts her hood and cloak sodden from the down pour. All around her men worked together, including Isildur to steady the ship upon the angry waves. "Oh, Uinen!" whispered Anariel, "Won't you sing peace unto Osse's wrath?"  She asked silently. She was feeling dizzy from all the movement and her stomach weak. She slowly let go of the mast and walked toward the cabins. A great wave lifted up beneath the ship and Anariel slipped and slid toward star board, she let out an exclamation and fell into Gildor's arms.

"Be careful, my lady!" called the elf over the wrath of the storm, "This storm intends to rip this ship apart!"

"She'll last!" exclaimed Isildur who was up above with another man, Griswold, repairing the sail, "She has to last." He muttered.

Gildor helped her up and led her inside. They struggled to keep balance.

"You may want to sit down a while as we work outside!" Gildor told her as she sank down against her cot. He saw the discomfort on her face, "You do not look too well, lady."

"Dizziness."  She told him closing her eyes as the ship shifted once more.

"Here." Gildor said grasping her right wrist, "Take your hand and apply a little pressure on this spot, it should ease the dizziness and sea sickness." He told her. "I wouldn't drink or eat anything either for a while." He added.

"As if…" She muttered. Gildor gave a light laugh clutching one of the thin columns nearby lest he fall.

"Forgive me, my lady, sometimes I find the predicaments of mortals amusing and perhaps I shouldn't."

"Imagine yourself in our position." She told him laying back in good humor in spite of her condition. Sympathy shone in his eyes.

"Indeed." Gildor said, "Then I suppose you could laugh at me."

Anariel smiled at the other. "Precisely."

"I believe your brother will be needing my aid, hold fast my lady!" Gildor told her, "We shall survive this storm, yet!"

Anariel pulled herself up in her cot watching the pouring rain hit the panel of her window. Her dizziness soon faded into drowsiness for the waves below her lulled her in spite of their strength. _I truly need sleep. _Anariel thought.

Heeding to the song of the water, she fell into a deep sleep.

*

A pair of blue eyes flashed before her, golden hair drenched in rain and dirt. There were cries from all around. Blood… blood upon a golden sword with the wings of a swan spread over its hilt and blood upon a golden cloak that shimmered alive with a million shining stars…

"Father! Father!" was this her own voice? She could not run, she could not run fast enough… she could not reach him and he was falling.

"Anariel!" called a voice in warning. She saw him, impaled upon a stake of blackened evil his dead body opened its eyes and stared at her fondly. Minas Morgul… Morgul… Riordan! "Anariel," He whispered, "Anariel, be careful! Beware! Beware! Beware, Anariel!"

There sat upon black throne the body of a king cloaked in fair raiment and upon his lap was his dismembered head with a crown upon it… His mouth opened and he spoke a name in a cold whisper, in the voice only the dead could speak, "Aragorn…"

"To Osgilliath!" roared a voice drunk in the heat of battle. Anarion! Swords clashed and vile orcs hissed curses in their fowl tongue and fell wolves, blackened by a dark will ran through what was once the White City…

A woman, an old woman looking up her from her bed, her silver eyes clouded in sadness, "Onen i-estel Edain, u-chebin estel anim…" [I gave hope to the Dunedain, but I have not kept hope for myself…]  she whispered and death slowly took her.

A golden ring fell glimmering into the darkness of the river and Isildur fell with it… No… 

The White Tree burned… smoldered in a deep fire of hatred and the fire grew to become an eye… a great eye… and it was staring at her…

But a brightness appeared before that dark fire and held up a golden sword. His eyes, blue as the sky, looked to her, but he was fading away and the great fiery eye was swallowing him…

"Anariel!" his voice called out like a thousand songs of joy slowly being burnt away, "Anariel! Anariel!"

No… come back! you can't die…!

*

"Anariel! Anariel! Wake up!" Isildur called to her shaking her, he was worried deeply. She seemed to be taken by some sort of madness.

"No! Come back! Come back! You cannot die! You cannot leave me!" She cried out thrashing. Her eyes snapped open and she saw her brother before her.

"Isildur!" She sat up and he embraced her.

"It was but a nightmare." he told her, "You are cold." He added when he pulled away he placed a hand on her forehead, "Icy cold." She shook her head and let her tears come down.

"Isildur…" Her voice was shaking, her hands were shaking, "I cannot… it wasn't just a nightmare… I…!"

"Sshhh…!" hissed Isildur, "Come outside, the sun glows brightly, we have escaped the storm and we are at the shores of Eriador." She breathed in and out deeply.

"How long have I been asleep?" She asked him.

"Two days." Isildur said, "I felt that you needed the rest and I left you to it." She rested her head on her brother's shoulder and clutched him close to her. Anariel felt her dream echo through her.

'A golden ring fell glimmering into the darkness of the river and Isildur fell with it…' 

Isildur rocked her, "There now," He said quietly, "Are you better?" She swallowed looking into his silver eyes.

"Aye." She said softly but everything within her was twisting. He forced a smile.

"Now do you wish to see the sun?" He said helping her up.

"Yes, I do." She replied sincerely holding her head for the cho of the dream still pounded in it. _For I have seen too much darkness…_

*

The pallor in her face of earlier fears faded as she stepped outside upon the deck. The sun indeed shone brightly, and not a cloud covered the endless blue of the sky. "Look!" cried Gildor with a laughing smile, "Sea gulls!"

And indeed there were, high over head they flew singing their song. The elf looked at her in good humour. "There are many an elf who go mad at such a sight." said Gildor. Anariel looked up amused.

"Is that story true of elves?" She asked coming up next to him. "That they long for the sea?"

Gildor smiled easily, "Not really the sea, Lady, but we long for our true home hidden beyond it. Though the song of the sea speaks to us of many secret things, of things unseen, of things unheard, of promises for something better." 

Anariel shivered recalling that it was the ocean's rocking that lulled her to sleep.

"Indeed." Anariel said, "And what is your true home like?" She asked leaning on the rail by the elf.

"Silver are the trees of Eressea." Gildor told her as if lost in some memory, "And leaves of gold and streams shimmer as moonlight. And forever a great song is heard from afar, for Eressea is filled with song and laughter and music. The elves delight in the music beneath the stars, for nothing fades in Eressea." 

Anariel imagined such a place in her mind. It seemed beautiful.

"I mean no offense, in this question Gildor," Anariel said quietly deep in thought, "But do the elves ever weary of the world? According to legend they are bound to it forever."

"Yes," said Gildor quietly, "And when they do they die of heartbreak from its endless beauty, from its endless song, for though we hear it, we cannot posses it. For though we love it, it can never embrace us fully. The world and the elves are like two lovers, close but forever apart. We are seduced by its song, by its bright fire, the fire Eru set in all its beings, mortal and immortal." The shadow of a smile touched his lips, "Sometimes we even envy the mortals who are not bound to anything."

Anariel gave a deep sigh.

"Perhaps," she said thoughtfully, "All creatures born of the fire of the world return to its song."

"That may be true lady." Gildor said looking at the gulls, "And deep is your wisdom to speak so of it."

Anariel looked out at the endless waters admiring the glittering waves. _And where does your song lie, Riordan? She thought quietly, but managed a smile. She suddenly felt peaceful. _

"I believe elves and mortals should come to know each other better." Anariel said suddenly, "For I have never found more peace than in talking with one of the elven folk, and perhaps we could learn something from each other yet." Gildor smiled and gave her a slight bow.

"In that we all dream of such a thing, Lady," Gildor said, "Perhaps one day it shall be as you say."

*

"Do you remember when you were little?" asked Isildur. It was night again, and Anariel refused to sleep instead stayed out to watch the stars. Gildor had decided to do likewise and lay upon the deck restfully and Isildur had decided to join her.

"That seems like so long ago." Anariel told him. "Indeed, it seems like an eternity ago."

"True," said Isildur, "You were naught but a babe in father's arms when we landed in Gondor." She smiled looking up and silently naming the constellations in her mind.

"Indeed." She said.

"Remember when you climbed that oak tree in the field?" Anariel laughed, she had been only seven mortal years old.

"Yes, I cried endlessly because I couldn't get down!" Anariel said and looked at him in mock annoyance, "And you didn't help me and you were old enough to know not to leave me there crying!" Isildur grinned.

"Aye," He said, "But I taught you something, didn't I?" He asked.

"The nerve you had." She thought shaking her head amused, "You said you'd leave me there all night if I didn't come down myself! And I was begging you to help me!

"But you came down by yourself, didn't you?"

"Only because you were eating all the pound cake." She muttered. Isildur laughed lightly.

"Well, at least we discovered you could go up and down trees on your own." He said quietly. Anariel looked at him, his gaze was distant.

"What is it?" She asked him.

"We shall see father again in Lindon." Isildur said quietly, "I have not seen him in years."

"Aye, neither have I." Anariel said pulling back her long red hair from her face, "I pray at least our reunion will be joyful, but…" She trailed off and swallowed thinking of her dream. 

"You wish Anarion was here as well." Isildur said. "I know." He placed a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, "Fear not," Isildur told her, "Anarion is clever, and an excellent fighter. He will be the victor in the end."

"When shall we arrive at Lindon?" She asked desiring to change subjects. She did not want to think of her dreams.

"If this weather keep up, two more days, and we shall reach its shore." said Isildur.

"I cannot wait to see father again." She said softly and gazed fondly upon the star of Earendil.

*

Lindon.

Already she could see its gleaming walls from afar, covered in flowers and the gulls flew about it happily.  Upon its docks were great white ships with sails glimmering of silver white. "Look!" Anariel exclaimed, "Isildur! It is beautiful!"

"Wait until you walk in." Isildur said, "The elves make everything beautiful." But deep within Isildur was hoping that Lindon would quell some of his younger sister's sorrows for a while.

"Indeed," Gildor said with a smile, "There are gardens within Lindon, for the elves love flowers and could not live a day without them." Anariel cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Well it seems certainly that you have lived quite well in our month's voyage."

He smiled, "Indeed, but I had the garden of the stars to look upon." Isildur laughed.

"Ah! Did I forget to add that you will be endlessly surrounded by elvish poetry?" Anariel grinned.

"Sounds better than your snoring at any rate."

At this Gildor also laughed. Isildur snorted.

"Ha! Ha!" exclaimed Griswold from up on the crow's nest. He waved the flag of Osgilliath up high as the elves of Lindon may see it.

The closer the ship came to Lindon the more Anariel could not wait to step into it.  She could smell sweet fragrances of the flowers in the light breeze. She gave a deep sigh of contentment. She was glad they were almost on land.

"Be ready to take your things!" said Griswold from above smilingly, "For we will soon land!"

*

Elendil was already down below waiting for them. As soon as Anariel saw him as she came off the ship she leaped into his arms. "Father!" she exclaimed joyfully. He had grown old but still held  a certain youth about his features. Long and white was his hair tied back and he still kept a beard that gleamed with grey and white streaks. His grey eyes looked down upon his daughter fondly as he laughed.

"For a moment I thought I was looking at your mother! Welcome to Lindon!" He said he then parted the embrace and looked at her studying the dirt and blood upon her wrinkled gown. "What's this?" He asked and looked up an Isildur who had basically arrived wearing the same sort of worn outfit. Isildur silently embraced his father as well. Gildor stood behind him in silent testimony.

"I hate to come here being a bringer of ill news, father." Elendil shook his head his face becoming grim.

"Where is Anarion?" He asked Isildur.

"Defending Osgilliath." Anariel told him solemnly. The elder man gaped at them.

"Walk with me! Tell me what has happened!" Elendil bid them, they followed him into the walls of the Grey havens, elves greeting them kindly on their way.

Isildur briefly recounted the tale of the taking of Minas Ithil and the siege at Osgilliath, "We came to Lindon to seek aid, from you and Gil-galad." Isildur told him, "We had not a choice but to leave Osgilliath, many were lost."

"Including, Riordan." Anariel said sadly. 

"My child," whispered Elendil, "I am sorry." and he embraced her warmly.

"I think it would be best, my lord, if we found your son and daughter some rooms where they may perhaps refresh themselves and change." Gildor said.

"Yes," said Elindil, "Yes, indeed! Long has been your journey and arduous, enjoy the welcome of Lindon for a while before we discuss further matters." Anariel frowned, she was deeply worried about Anarion.

"Where is Gil-galad?" asked Isildur.

"He is meeting with a representative of Lothlorien currently, but worry not, I shall call you to him when he is finished. Certainly he shall want to hear your news as well. But first, a bath a change of clothes, and some food."

*

Anariel had been given a room close to the gardens of the courtyard. The room was very open, with a great balcony and several large narrow windows. Her bed was the most splendid bed she had ever seen, its head board carved in the shape of swans upholding stars and its sheets white and soft. 

She had washed up and changed into a green gown the elves had offered her, with a girdle of golden flowers. The clothing of the elves were light and she felt comfortable in it. She sighed pulling on her grey boots which had been cleaned for her and tying down only two small braids and leaving the rest of her red hair loose. Her circlet gleamed of gold and she looked at herself in the mirror approving that she looked a lot better than she had upon the ship. Color had been roused into her cheeks from the sunlight though her green eyes still gleamed with some sorrow and worry.

Anarion. 

She placed her hand in the looking glass as if wishing by some strange power to see him, to speak with him, to know that he was well. But there was no such certainty. 

Anariel sighed deeply. Twilight had already fallen and she heard elves singing in their soft voices about. They sung of stars, and bravery, of travels far and distant lore, and of love in their own beautiful tongue. Most likely her father and her brother were meeting with the elven king right now discussing the matters of Osgilliath and Minas Anor, and of the taking of Minas Ithil. 

Isildur had told her it would be better for her not to attend the small meeting as much as she wanted to. He had told her to rest her mind and heart a while and find peace in Lindon. _Perhaps he is right, she thought to herself, __I am weary of death and sorrow and war. _

Anariel breathed in the evening air, taking in the fragrances of the many white night blooming flower and she let out a sigh.

Lindon was a beautiful place.

*

Next Chapter… Gil-galad appearance… finally! YAY! hehe. Did you like this chapter?


	4. The First Meeting

*

Chapter 3: The First Meeting

"I am sorry." Ereinion Gil-galad, King of the Noldor, told his guests deep sorrow in his voice. They were within his chambers in his manor in Lindon. Isildur and Elendil were robes much in the fashion of Gil-galad, light and free flowing of white and gold to mark honored guests. Isildur looked into the elven king's sapphire eyes wincing inwardly.

"Don't be." Isildur said, "It was bound to happen." _But not so soon, _thought to elven king silently.

"I had been speaking with a representative of Lorien." said Gil-galad looking at the two lords of men calmly, "Galadriel feels the shadow growing in Mirkwood, the orcs are invading to close to elven domains and they have grown ever more daring as the years pass." He stood up from his seat and began pacing lightly.

"I have heard of such reports myself." said Isildur, "Our scouts in the north have bumped into more than one camp of orcs."

"The power of Mordor grows." Gil-galad said softly, "Galadriel made a proposal to me," He said turning towards them, "She suggests we call a Council at Imladris, with not only the heads of the elves invited but you as well, including Anarion."

"And what is the purpose of this Council, lord?" asked Isildur curiously. Gil-galad smiled at him.

"Galadriel proposes and Alliance of Elves and Men against Sauron." The elven king said. Elendil and Isildur exchanged glances.

"Are you saying that we are to combine the host of our armies and march into Mordor? That sounds almost insane…" Isildur muttered quietly. 

"Indeed, but it shall not be done in haste. It is simply an offered idea, nothing has been decided yet of it." said Gil-galad, _for even I find the prospect of marching into Mordor bristling, _thought the elven king.

"But something shall be decided of it certainly." said Elendil some foreboding in his eyes.

"True," Gil-galad said, "We shall still need Anarion's and Elrond's counsel on this as well as Erestor's and Glorfindel's."

Isildur sighed deeply, "At the rate of what is happening in Gondor, and of the news of Mirkwood and Lorien I would not doubt that the dark lord is attempting to push his power into Eriador."

"That is my thoughts also," said Gil-galad grimly, "He does not yet know where Imladris lies."

"And may he never know of it." said Elendil fervently a bright fire in his eyes for he yet remembered the fall of Eregion.

"There is another matter also that needs to be settled." whispered Gil-galad mostly to himself, _For I have yet the three rings delivered to me before Celebrimbor's fall… _He shivered at the thought of the three rings. He dared not lay his hands on one of them for he knew Sauron's power still lied with the one. "But rest now, especially you Isildur," said Gil-galad with a welcoming smile, "For Gildor has told me that you would much prefer the warmth of a bed than a ship cot."

Isildur let out an easy laugh glad for a lighter subject, "Indeed, my lord, that you are right."

*

Gil-galad walked out onto his balcony sighing deeply and looking down at the white blooming flowers neath the moonlight. "Varda," he whispered letting loose his long golden hair from its bind and running his hands through it in some frustration, "Have I the strength to lead such a host?" He asked silently in the old elven tongue of Quenya.

He knew it was invetible. That unless there was an alliance between the two kindreds Sauron would make his way through Middle Earth without being checked. Gil-galad sighed again. He was slowly growing weary of war and yet he had not sailed west. The Elves of this world needed him still and he knew this was his place for now.

Looking down he saw something that caught his eye in the courtyard below. There was a lady gowned in soft emerald sleeping upon a bed of moss and flowers beneath one of the great beech trees. Indeed it was common for the elven servants of his households to do such things at time but he had not recognized that elf at any rate. Hair of long of fiery red, a strange color among the elves.

Gil-galad walked down quietly, bear footed. Lovely was she beneath the moonlight, a lovely sight indeed, but as he looked closer he saw that this was no elf at all, but a human lady. Gil-galad tilted his head slightly admiring her; she was beautiful for a mortal. A strong lithe body and a face tanned and blushed from ocean winds no doubt.

He then realized this must be the sister of Isildur… Anariel was her name.

She stirred, as if sensing his eyes on her. Gil-galad stepped back lightly not wishing to frighten her. Her eyes were a deep green. She looked up sleepily at him.

"Am I dreaming again?" she asked in a quiet whisper some sorrow in her eyes. Gil-galad smiled at her. 

"Nay, lady, but if this be a dream then I pray it is a beautiful one."

*

Anariel, though hearing his reply, was still dazed. This was indeed a figure from her dreams, that she had no doubt. She blinked twice and looked about trying to place her surroundings for she had slept peacefully, 'neath the great tree in the courtyard, waiting for Isildur and her father to be done with their meeting.

It seemed to her that wherever elves walked there was peace.

She sat up and looked up at the elf before her. His hair was long and light gold and his eyes a silver bright blue. He stood tall and had a strong bearing about him. This indeed was the elf that had appeared in her dreams. She had no doubt of it now. He was absolutely handsome. She realized she was staring and turned away blushing at her manners. It seemed that for a moment Riordan disappeared from her mind and she refused to let that happen.

"Forgive me," she said, "I'm still not much used to being here, and sometimes I forget I am not dreaming, and among elves." The reply sounded stupid even to her. But the elf took no offense of her manners sitting across from her on the ground and crossing his legs and smiling kindly.

"My lady, you speak kindly of elves. But tell me, have I thus fallen into a dream? For if you are mortal then you are the loveliest among them." He told her. Anariel sighed. She had heard many compliments before, when she was courting Riordan, and even from others who had wanted her hand. And yet coming from this elf, they seemed almost… truthful.

"I… thank you." she told him not meeting his eyes. He laughed softly, and his laughter was not unkind.

"Lady, will you not look at me? Or am I that hideous to look upon?" He asked bemused. 

"Nay, sir," she told him finally meeting the brightness of his eyes, "For you are much too radiant to look upon that my eyes cannot hold yours for long."

What was she saying? Anariel did not know what over came her at the moment. Elves. Something about them, and yet… she had not spoken to Gildor in such a manner. _I saw him in my visions, _She thought, _I saw the blood upon this one's sword. _

"You are the sister of Isildur, are you not?" asked the golden haired elf.

"Indeed, I am." Anariel told him, "You seem to have the advantage here, sir, for I do not know who you are."

Something sparkled in his eyes, something utterly childish, like a little boy who knew a secret but would not tell. He laughed suddenly.

"I would have more fun that you didn't know at all," said the elf as he stood up, "Unless you'd like to guess it." Anariel raised an eyebrow at him finding it easier to look at him now, as he appeared playful.

"Many are the names of elves." Anariel told him, "How would you have me guess it?" He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it.

"Hmm…" said the elf, "I do not know, lady, I suppose you shall have to figure for yourself. Would you do me the honor to walk with me a bit?" He asked her as he bowed. Anariel smiled. She would never tire from the unpredictable antics of elves. Remembering her conversation with Gildor she suddenly wished to talk with another elf and certainly she deemed this one interesting.

"Most certainly, sir." She told him. "And where shall we walk?"

"Why," he said taking her hand and leading her out, Anariel felt surprised by his sudden familiarity with her but said nothing of it, "We shall run away into the night to the beaches, for the stars and moon shine brightly there and I would see them glimmer upon the ocean shore."

Isildur had been right when he said she would be surrounded with the endless poetry of the elves. She smiled at him.

"Is there such a place?"

"Of course, my lady." smiled the elf, "Follow me!"

*

Isildur frowned not finding his sister. An elven maid passed by. "Lady," Isildur said, giving the elven lady a slight bow, "Have you seen my sister, the Lady Anariel?" The elven lady smiled playfully at him.

"Yes, my lord," said the elven maid, "She went to walk with Gil-galad." Isildur raised an eyebrow.

"Did she now?" he asked curiously. Anariel? Walk with the elven king?

"Aye, sir, they left about an hour ago." she said.

"Thank you, lady." said Isildur and he walked on and raised an eyebrow to himself as he headed to his chambers for rest.

*

The elf had not lied about such a place. Anariel and he walked upon the sandy beaches away from the docks just outside the walls of Lindon. The stars did shine brightly and moon glimmered silver upon the waters. Anariel admired the view and silently considered whether or not she was still sleeping for maybe in elven towns one's dreams were peaceful and beautiful.

"My lady," said the elf looking at her curiously his blue eyes glittering, "You act as if you have never seen such sites." He clasped his hands behind his back.

"I have never really been on a beach before," Anariel said, "I have never even seen the ocean until we left Osgilliath upon a ship." She said, "But you are right, sir, the stars indeed shine beautifully here."

He looked up to them his eyes misting over in thought. "Yes, they are, lady." He said in a quiet voice. His voice sounded like a light breeze. He sat against a large rock upon the beach and invited her to sit by him. Anariel looked at him and smiled.

"You said I could guess your name, sir." she told him.

"Indeed I did, lady," said the elf a playful smile touching his lips as he turned back to her, "Do you have it yet?"

"I would call you _Surihuon." She told him, "For your voice is as the wind." The golden haired elf grinned at her then laughed lightly._

"You are versed in our old tongue?" He asked her.

_"Yasse hwestannar lorelindo-nin?" Anariel said quoting a lament her mother sang long ago, __"A! Elentinwe! ar vanwa na Laureanorie ar orenie! Nu elenya siluvar oiale ar fallas Earon!" [translation: Where, in the breezes of the sea, lies my song? O! Star Shine! Lost to me is the Golden Land and my heart! Forever beneath the light of the stars and the waves of the sea!]_

The elf looked at her surprised. "Few are the men who speak the old elven tongue, where did you come to learn it? Not even Isildur nor Elendil speak it, though they know Sindaren."__

Anariel sighed deeply. "My mother spoke it," She said softly, "I remember little of her, for she died when Numenor sank beyond the waves." She swallowed, "When I was young while Minas Anor was being built my father had recovered some of my mother's books in the ship. Many of them were her diaries written in the old elven tongue. I took them to myself even when I only knew a little Sindaren myself and I learned it, though I still do not know it that well." she said quietly.

"It is not so hard a tongue to learn as most mortals may think," said the elf, "Though I suppose I may have books on it within my libraries if you wish to read one." Anariel cocked an eyebrow at the golden haired elf.

"Your libraries?" She asked.

*

Oh curse his tongue at times, Gil-galad thought, "Well, _the libraries at any rate." He amended quickly. A smile curved her lips._

"Are you a friend of the king's? For you must be to speak of his home as such." Anariel told him. Gil-galad grinned, she caught on fast. There was a glimmer in her eyes he liked about her and her immediate warmth toward him made him feel better than the formality he had to put on earlier among counselors and heralds.

"You could say that, my lady." Gil-galad told her, "I do work within the home of Gil-galad."

"Then why are you loathe to tell me your name, sir?" Anariel asked him.

"Do you know what your name means, my lady?" asked Gil-galad changing subjects, "It means 'Lady of Fire.'" She laughed.

"Aye, and my brother's is 'Lord of Fire' and the other 'Servant of the Moon.'" she told him. "Strange are meanings of names that are given to us, stranger still how it seems that our very names determine the road of our fate."

Gil-galad glanced up at the stars in memory thinking of what his father had told him when he was very young. _When you were born, your mother called you Gil-galad, whispered the voice of Fingon in his mind, __She said you would be the brightest star against the darkness of the world… He smiled sadly remembering his silly reply for he had yet been to young to understand._

_'But I don't even shine!' he had told his father. How he missed him now! Gil-galad could not wait until the Council. He deeply wanted to see Elrond again, and his mind was drifting toward his friend. Glancing at Anariel he saw that her eyes were lingering the stars at the ocean's horizon but the expression on her face displayed an inner torment and sadness._

"What troubles you, my lady?" asked Gil-galad, "For I see tears yet unshed glistening in your emerald eyes." She looked at him surprised for a moment. Gil-galad had decided that she had forgotten that he was there.

"I…" She began but seemed to choke on her own words she glanced down, "My husband, Riordan, once told me that he would like to see the Great Sea one day with me. He said that when peace finally came over Middle Earth then we would go together to western shores to see it's beauty together." Her words came out softly and painfully but Gil-galad heard them, "And now I have come here out of urgency, to the beauty of Lindon, without him, for he has passed on into shadow." She whispered as two tears trickled down her cheeks as her eyes closed in memory. 

Gil-galad took off his robe and wrapped it around the lady's shoulders in comfort. "My lady, few are those who know the fate of men when they pass on." Gil-galad told her softly, "But if Iluvatar gave it to them then I suppose that you may trust that wherever your husband may be he watches you still and wishes you happiness no matter what may come." Anariel forced a smile and wiped away her tears.

"I shouldn't be troubling you with my woes." 

"Nay, my lady." Gil-galad told her with a smile daring to hug her, "Trouble me further than troubling yourself!" She gave a short humorless laugh.

"You are only the second elf I have met since I arrived here and I find elves to be the most amazing of the living peoples!" She told him finally meeting his eyes. Gil-galad took notice at her face and finally realized why he had mistaken her for an elf. She was yet young and yet her eyes seemed to see far and sorrow already touched her closely. 

"We should begin walking back, lest all of Lindon come looking for us." She told him, "And Isildur might be wondering where I am." Gil-galad smiled in good humour.

"Let them wonder!" He exclaimed, "It will make the late return far more amusing! As for your brother? I'm sure he'll understand…" She laughed her sorrows fading away.

"You do not know my brother sir, he is very protective of me be you man, elf, dwarf, or no." Gil-galad raised an eyebrow his expression serious though he fought a smile of amusement.

"Dwarf? Has Dwarf attempted to court you?" Anariel grinned standing up much to Gil-galad's dismay.

"You would be surprised of the tales I have of those who have attempted to court me when I was once a maid." Gil-galad smiled and took her arm.

"You shall have to tell them to me."

"Your name first, sir?"

"Simply call me Meledhel."

*

Meledhel: 'Dearst Elf'


	5. Whispers of the Heart

**Leandra: **Thank you very much for your input! I'm flattered beyond words now… and yet words continue to come (the little voices in my head nonetheless)

*

Chapter 4: Whispers of the Heart

Early the next morning Anariel walked through the halls now wearing her white gown and golden girdle once more which the elven maids had taken a long time to clean. The sun reflected golden ember on the ocean and a thin mist hung in the air. The world was barely awake but Anariel wanted to be awake before anyone else knowing her brother and her father were bound to do something without her and she was fearful of missing any news of what was to happen. She hadn't spoke to Isildur since their arrival and after she returned from her walk with the golden-haired elf she had gone to sleep. 

She quietly wondered how the meeting went with the elven king. She stopped in the middle of a hall realizing she was unsure where Elendil and Isildur were quartered since she hadn't bothered to check last night. _Very intelligent Anariel, _she scolded herself silently, _Isildur was probably worried about you last night not seeing you in your room after their meeting. _

"Where do you walk, oh, Lady of Fire, so early in the morn?" came a soft and familiar voice close to her ear. She nearly jumped with a start before her mind realized who it was.

"You!" she exclaimed in surprise then smiled, "I would ask you the same question." He was clad in formal robes dark blue silk and velvet embroidered with silver stars and a circlet of mithril weaved on his forehead. He smiled at her in reply, "Is there going to be another meeting this morning? You certainly are dressed for it, Meledhel." She told him.

"There is, my lady," he told her, "We are to decide our itinerary to Imladris. Though I say that you are still very early for such a meeting, it won't be for another two hours." _To Imladris? _Her mind struggled to remember that name then she recalled Anarion telling her that many years before Eregion had fallen and Elrond, son of Earendil, had taken the refugees to a valley west of the Misty Mountains where they still dwelt. Where Isildur's wife and four sons had also taken refuge at Isildur's bidding.

"Imladris?" she asked, "That is a long journey from here, I would guess, for I have never been there."

"It is a long journey indeed." said the one she called Meledhel, "Heralds have been sent out from Lindon and Lorien to summon the heads of all those who would fight against the coming evil to the House of Elrond. There is much to be discussed." His voice seemed laden with heaviness as he said this. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. Anariel looked into his sky blue eyes for a moment then immediately shyed away from them turning instead to the tapestries hung upon the walls. She didn't know why but being around this elf flustered her.

"I could use some breakfast, friend!" called a voice from the end of the hall. Isildur. She turned toward her brother who had also changed into his old clothing now clean. Leather breeches and boots and a woven tunic. Anariel smiled at him.

"Is your stomach speaking to you already?" She asked amused.

"I would say so." said Isildur approaching them and then he gave a slight bow to the golden-haired elf next to her respectfully and she found the action strange. "So, my lord," Isildur said, "I would look forward to the cooking of the elves at any rate." Anariel held the other's amused gaze for a long moment and after a while she realized she was gaping. The golden-haired elf gave her a gallant bow amusement flickering in his eyes.

_"Mae govanen, Atanriel, im na Gil-galad." _[Well met, lady of men, I am Gil-galad.] He told her in soft-tongued Sindaren as he took her hand and kissed it. Anariel was blushing furiously now at a lack of words. Isildur looked at both of them curiously.

"I believe I missed something." Isildur said looking back and forth from Anariel's surprised expression and Gil-galad's amused one. The elven king continued to smile at the lady as he clasped Isildur's shoulder.

"Not really." He replied good naturedly, "But you were speaking of breakfast and I must agree I too would like something to eat before our journey."

_He is the king of the Noldor? _Was the question that kept echoing in her mind as she followed them close behind. She should have known! How foolish she had been not to see it earlier! Anariel wanted to slap herself on the forehead for being so short-sighted. _Why else would he appear in my dreams?_

*

Gil-galad was indeed amused by the lady's expression when he introduced himself to her and further amused by Isildur's confusion with the situation. _I can almost imagine the thoughts running through Isildur's mind. It reminded him of those short peaceful times when he would be with Elrond, Glorfindel, and Erestor and find the smallest reasons to tease each other with. __And yet moments of such peace are so short…_

He sighed half hearing what Isildur was telling him but mostly thinking that he would once again be able to see Elrond, Cirdan, Erestor, and Glorfindel again. Long had been the years since they had last met and the time felt longer now that he knew that they would have a short time to speak before war broke out. _I am weary of war, thought Gil-galad. He had been raised in it. Only a boy when his grand father Fingolfin fell against Morgoth, still too young to take the crown when his father Fingon too passed away. And terribly uncertain when Gondolin was brought down to rubble and when Turgon fell into shadow against darker forces. It seemed as if war would never cease and the evils of the world would never end and there were moments when Gil-galad wondered whether good would prevail at all._

Even now he wondered and the endless doubts kept knawing in his heart.

Then another thing troubled him and sometimes his own actions surprised him toward another. He glanced at Anariel who had taken the arm of her brother as he talked her gaze avoiding his purposely. Gil-galad did not know why but he found himself trying to charm her as if he was a young elf again and he knew better than to do that. _Her presence is intoxicating, Gil-galad though quietly. The mortal lady of firey red hair and eyes of elven beryls, he found himself attracted to her without recognizing it until now. __I had better stop this, he decided, __no good shall come of it._

"Horses have been readied for us, as well as heralds and guards." Gil-galad said absentmindedly managing to reply to the Isildur's question which he barely heard, "We will leave after breakfast and ride hard for others too are readying to leave to Imladris this day." Gil-galad told him. He silently wondered who else had been invited. Isildur nodded as they walked to the open courtyard where a table had been set, Elendil and a few other elven counselors already seated there.

"Good morning." said Elendil rising with a smile looking fondly at his daughter. Gil-galad smiled and pulled a chair for her which she took gratefully holding his eyes for a moment and Gil-galad also held her emerald gaze. _I had better not hold her eyes for too long… He thought with a soft smile toward her._

He scolded himself for his own thoughts: This lady was a mortal. He could not have affection for her further than that of a friend. 

"I say, we missed you last night, Anariel." said Elendil, "Where were you?" Isildur looked at the food quite hungry as Gil-galad greeted his counselors although his eyes were one her gauging her reaction to the question. She seemed all of a sudden uncomfortable and Gil-galad wondered if she thought that she had done something wrong although he saw no wrong in walking and talking.

"I was with Lord Gil-galad," She managed to reply as a servant poured orange juice into her glass goblet. She turned to him for help and Gil-galad smiled.

"I was showing your daughter some of the sights of Lindon, she was glad to see them."  Anariel smiled in relief. If Elendil caught anything he didn't show it but instead seemed satisfied with the answer although Isildur himself curious with the whole situation between them.

_And why should they be? wondered Gil-galad, __It's not as if anything happened. _

Nothing did happen. Why were they all acting like this? _Why am I acting this way? _Gil-galad did realize that although his expression remained placid his heart was beating in nervousness. He felt as if he had done something terribly wrong although nothing wrong had been done.

"Lindon is indeed beautiful," said Elendil quietly, "It will be a pity that we must leave it soon."

"Do not fret, friend," said Gil-galad, "Imladris is just as beautiful for Elrond himself has put work into it."

"Elrond as a carpenter?" Isildur asked somewhat amused. Gil-galad smiled at his friend.

"Elves do many other things besides singing and fighting in battle, friend." Gil-galad told him. At this everyone at the table laughed.

"And what of you, my lord?" asked Elendil, "Do you plan to build yourself a house of your own someday, when the war is over?" _When the war is over… the thought echoes grimly in Gil-galad's mind because he wondered if there ver would be an end to this war. But he smiled nonetheless as they ate together._

"Nay, I plan to move in with Elrond, but don't tell him that he'll be up to his head with that." His elven counselors exchanged amused glances knowingly and Elendil seemed to be the only one into the joke as well.

"I suppose Elrond would be up to his head with that," said Elendil with a grin, "But then again I think he would be happy for your company nonetheless." Gil-galad stood up from the table.

"Indeed, my friend!" exclaimed the elven king, "And yours as well!" He then looked to Isildur knowingly, "And I am sure, Isildur, that your wife and your young sons miss you greatly as well."

"Are they well?" asked Isildur looking up suddenly. Gil-galad smiled at him.

"In the last letter Elrond sent to me from Imladris speaks very well of them although two of your eldest sons, Elendur and Aratan, are becoming restless waiting for news of you." Isildur managed a sad smile.

"They long to fight by me side." Elendil smiled.

"Isn't that in your blood already?" Isildur then looked at his sister.

"Indeed!" He exclaimed. "I did not finish telling you the full tale of what happened before Osgilliath?" Elendil raised his eyebrows and Anariel nudged him.

"Isildur!" She hissed shooting him a warning look. Gil-galad watched their exchange with interest. Isildur leaned back with a smile.

"Oh, but he must hear this," He told her as Elendil and Gil-galad listened, "Father, let it be known that not only your sons walk into battle bravely but your daughter as well. When Anarion and I told her we would be going to aid Osgilliath she insisted to come with us as much as I argued against her." Elendil looked at her surprised.

"You were at Osgilliath?" Anariel raised her chin and stared at her father squarely.

"How else would I arrive here?" She asked. Elendil was still absorbing the information given him. Isildur continued whole-heartedly.

"Aye, she was." Isildur said, "And she rode with us swift and tirelessly,  and she stayed with Gildor in the make shift healing houses three days and three nights with no food or sleep helping the wounded among us."

"And you let her go?" Elendil said looking at his son slight admonishing in his voice. Isildur raised his hands up in defense.

"This she told us when she argued: We are the three heirs of Elendil. If we stand together then we should die together." Isildur said quietly and shook his head, "We did not argue that." Elendil looked at his daughter aghast but Gildor cut in before any argument could ensue. 

"You have named your daughter rightly, Elendil." said Gildor, "For she is indeed a Lady of Fire and the fire of your people does burn in her heart." Elendil was grateful for the compliment but worry still flickered in his eyes.

"One of my heirs, she indeed is. A flame of her people? Yes! But my daughter she still is and above all treasures I hold her dear." said Elendil, "And I would not see her harmed by any!"

"Father…" Anariel began. Elendil was suddenly angry, but only out of fear for his daughter, that much both Gil-galad and Gildor could discern. Isildur sat silent biting his tongue knowing better than to argue against his father. Gildor shot a glance to Isildur knowing he had a motive for starting this. Gil-galad in turn caught Gildor's eyes and suddenly knew his thoughts. _Isildur wishes to protect her._

"I do not want you riding out with your brothers again! You could have been killed!"

"And so could they!" Anariel said standing up from her seat, "Am I to stand here and wait as our people fall under siege? I am a woman, yes, but I am no little girl and I do understand what hails in the world around me, father! You cannot tell me whether or notI can ride out with my brothers for it is my right!"

"I am your father!" Elendil said standing taller than her, "I'll not hear this talk from you!" 

"Peace! Both of you!" Gil-galad ordered seeing that fire was within them both. Anariel abruptly left the table her fists balled at her side and her eyes glistening.

"Anariel!" Isildur called after her. Gil-galad placed a hand on his shoulder stopping him. Gil-galad too wanted to go after her but stopped himself looking to Gildor instead. 

"Gildor, go see to the lady." Gildor bowed and complied. Elendil sighed falling back to his seat looking like a broken man for a moment. 

"I am sorry for this." Elendil said quietly. Gil-galad smiled at the other comfortingly.

"Be at peace, friend." Gil-galad told him, "Were I in your position, as a father, perhaps I would do the same." Elendil managed a smile.

"Thank you." Gil-galad cocked an eyebrow at Isildur frowning.

_Though you, Isildur, must find better ways of getting your will done than humiliating your sister,_ Isildur looked surprised hearing the elven king's mental thought his lips pursed although he gave a slight nod in apology. Gil-galad dismissed the other two elven counselors bidding them to ready their horses. Gil-galad hoped Anariel would be well though he almost had no doubt of it. _For the little I know of her, she is strong of will. _He thought though he suddenly wished to be with her knowing of her sensitivity as well.

"I know you both fear for her safety," Gil-galad said to them, "But if it should bring you some peace she shall come to Imladris and remain there with Isildur's wife and children until we return from our campaign."

"So it has been decided?" Isildur said of 'the campaign.' Gil-galad shook his head.

"Not yet," he told them. "But I doubt we shall not have any other choice in the end."

*

Anariel was fuming. 

_How dare he decide what I should or should not do? _She thought furiously hiding outside the mansion of Lindon sitting on a stone bench angry tears threatning to fall from her eyes. _Yet he is your father… _said a small voice from the back of her mind.

"It's not fair." She whispered quietly her eyes falling on the great white sails of some of the ships docked.

"Indeed, it may not be." came another voice. Anariel sucked in her breath looking up then standing up.

"My lord," She said looking at Gil-galad. He waved her to sit back down and he sat next to her

"They fear for you, lady." Gil-galad told her softly, "They only fear for you because they love you." She wiped away some of the hot tears that burned her cheek. She was blushing and she felt utterly embarrased and yet comfortable in his presence all at once. _Why do I lose breath and feeling around him? I do not know what to feel! She swallowed the ball that had formed in her throat._

"When I was younger," She began slowly, "I followed what they expected of me." Her voice had turned to a quivering whispers and she could not meet his silver blue eyes nor the sharpness of his gaze that seemed to see through her, "I became obedient daughter of my father, the charming and smiling sister of my brothers, and when I chose to wed I became the loving and loyal wife of Riordan although I bore him no son and for that I still hold resentment." She said quietly fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers. 

Old woes began to fill her mind and the wounds of her heart began to open again. "For many months I waited in the tower of Minas Anor when my husband was away," She told him finally forcing herself to raise her eyes and face him, "I stood at the highest window facing the East, to Minas Ithil, where he was stationed under the command of Isildur." Her voice quivered as she forced herself to speak more slowly anger and sadness taking their toll, almost eating away at her voice and her heart, "When he returned, I rejoiced in seeing him again and there were feasts and the men would say 'Hail to the Lords of Gondor and the noble Lady of Riordan!' and there would be happiness even as the fires of Orodruin churned and roared past the borders of Mordor silently waiting for us to sleep before they unleashed a nightmare."

She closed her eyes looking down at her hands again and she shook her head, "Then one day he did not return and I had thought that I had lost Isildur as well." She whispered, "And I grew ill with grief fearing all was lost." She turned up her voice becoming hard and unwavering, "When Isildur returned I awoke from my grief and a flame of vengeance awoke in my heart for my husband's death. At that moment I swore I would not stand idle as the people of Gondor died and were under siege. I insisted to go to Osgilliath, and even now I vow to myself that I will not stand waiting as the enemy decides to take what it wills. If my brothers march into battle I shall march with them." 

Gil-galad reached over and clasped on her hands which were quivering and she met his eyes surprised. 

"Lady, I see the fire that lies within you but you must hold true to your father and his will." Gil-galad told her and her eyes darkened with his proposal, "You are no child among men. You have been a maid and have known the joys of peace, and a wife and have known love and war, and now a widow and you understand sorrow and loss. But you must not let your own desire for vengeance consume you lest you fall yourself to a doom undeserved." Anariel closed her eyes listening to the softness of his voice, sweet, and untouched by any rage or judgement but filled only with understanding and his hand clasping her own.

"I cannot bear this." She whispered weeping openly now feeling light headed with anger and sadness and feeling as if she was about to fall. But he held her coming closer and she was suddenly frightened by his closeness and pulled away. "We are to ride to Imladris?" She asked quietly forcing herself to stand feeling her heart beat furiously. Gil-galad gave a slight nod.

"Aye, my lady." He told her standing up slowly after her. "Will you be well to ride alone upon your own horse?" She nodded quickly.

"Yes, thank you, my lord." She said not able to meet his eyes again. Gil-galad began to walk passed her deciding he had best ready himself to ride as well. 

Anariel took in a deep breath feeling relieved that he left though unsure why.

*

_What had happened there? Wondered Gil-galad as he swiftly made his way to his quarters and began to shed his robe and change into his riding gear. He felt disappointed without fully knowing why. __Varda! Was I expecting something to come out of this? He had been so close to her and he felt as if for a moment he flew when her emerald eyes turned to meet his. He hesitated before throwing on his cloak and instead sat on his bed holding his head feeling a throbbing pain from within._

"My lord, are you well?" that voice was Gildor's. Gil-galad looked up at the elven representative from Imladris.

"I… I am fine, Gildor." He told him quickly. Gildor looked at him skeptically.

"Do you feel for her?" 

Gil-galad was taken aback by his question.

"What?" Gildor bowed.

"Forgive my brash question. But I have a feeling it is something Elrond would have asked you were he here and as a representative of my lord in Imladris I…"

Gil-galad laughed suddenly and shook his head at the serious look Gildor gave him.

"You are right, Gildor, Elrond would perhaps shoot that question at me, but when he does I shall answer him. As for you, she is naught but the daughter of my ally and I feel for her the affection of a friend." Gil-galad told him as he flung his blue cloak over his shoulders.

"And this is for me not for Elrond?"

"Precisely." said Gil-galad putting on a humorous smile. Gildor cocked and eyebrow.

"I see."

"Are the horses ready?"

"Your heralds, guards, Elendil and Isildur await you at the eastern gate. All that is left is you and I as well as Anariel." Gildor told him. Gil-galad nodded.

"Go and find Anariel and escort her to the gate, I have one more thing to take care of before I leave." Gildor bowed and hurried to comply his steps but a whisper that only elven ears could hear. Gil-galad sighed deeply and as soon as he was sure he was gone he reached over to his dressed where there was a locked box. He walked toward it slowly taking the key from the chain around his neck and he opened it.

Three rings glittered and glowed faintly from within. Nenya. Narya. Vilya.

Gil-galad sighed deeply and placed the rings within a small velvet bag and tucked it safely within the purse at his belt.  

It was time to head for the council but a deep foreboding filled Gil-galad. Not only for himself but for Anariel and for the fate of Middle Earth and the silent whispers of his heart.

*

Author's Note: Council at Imladris coming up! Gil-galad and Anariel overcome their feelings… PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. Council at Imladris (part I)

**Furius: **I really love your story "In Shock" you must continue you it!

*

Chapter 5 – Council at Imladris (Part I)

Anariel mounted a white horse offered to her by Gil-galad riding close next to Gildor. Her eyes did not meet that of Elendil nor that of Isildur she was still in no mood to speak with either of them. Once again she were her red and gold-gilded cloak with the heralds of Minas Anor and Isildur his blue one with the silver herald of Minas Ithil. There were heralds accompanying them, they were all elves but some of them with friendship to Elendil and Isildur offered to uphold the banners of mortal lands. The flags of Lindon, Gondor, and Arnor flew in the wind and ten guards holding shining spears and wearing the heralds of the king also rode by them. Soon Gil-galad rode forward to join them wearing golden armor and a deep blue cloak woven with silver stars.

Blood upon a golden sword with the wings of a swan spread over its hilt and blood upon a golden cloak that shimmered alive with a million shining stars…Anariel shivered at the sight and Gildor noticed her discomfort and gave her a look that said 'all is well.'

"Are you ready friend?" Gil-galad asked Elendil. Anariel looked out toward the vastness of Eriador wondering how long it would take to get to Imladris, trying to imagine what it looked like.

"Ready indeed!" exclaimed Elendil, "Now, shall we ride or have we any other matters to wait for?" Gil-galad smiled.

"We shall ride indeed!" He said "To Imladris!" He called out and off they went the King of the Elves leading them. From up high on the battlements of the walls of Lindon other heralds sounded their trumpet at their leaving and elven folk watched in anxiousness as their king left toward council.

Anariel was glad to be riding, glad for the wind whipping at her cloak and hair, and glad that she could distract her thoughts elsewhere. She kept up with the heralds and stayed close to Gildor glad for his company above all else. _For all other company seems sour, _she thought.

She sighed inwardly taking in the great blue of the sky as it wedded the eastern horizon of green valley and wood far off from her sight. Her father and her brother wanted to keep her locked up forever in some tower and Gil-galad? She really didn't know what to think of that nor had any words to describe what it was she felt when she was around him. _At the beginning I felt at ease but then when I discovered who he was… no more… Was it his title then that frightened her?_

_He is an elf, of the fairest of people, immortal and unfading, I cannot love him! Her mind argued in itself. __Love? Why am I speaking of love now? I have lost Riordan and I barely know Gil-galad and yet the word 'love' comes to mind? Anariel thought that perhaps grief was making her mad and she was doing things unlike herself. __Perhaps I only seek the warmth that I have lost, that is why I am uncertain about him…_

But she hadn't acted that way toward Gildor. _Then what am I feeling towards him?_

She soon found that she was forcing her horse to surpass Gildor and she came up next to Isildur who looked at her and Anariel saw the apology in his eyes. _He is my brother, she thought and with that thought came Anarion's face to her mind as well, __I can not bear a grudge against him for long he will go to battle soon. Anariel smiled at Isildur in familiar amusement and he smiled in return relief in his eyes that she was not angry with him._

For many miles they rode hard. They passed farmland and forest, villages, and settlements. By night fall they had reached Amon Sul and Gil-galad bid their horses to slow. Anariel gazed at the great tower on top of the hill. Watchmen wearing the colors of Arnor stood about it sounding their horns and welcoming their lord, Elendil. 

"We shall rest here tonight and continue on tomorrow," said Gil-galad, "Because I'm sure the horses have gotten enough exercise for one day." He added.

"And I could use a cup of ale." added Elendil. Isildur smiled.

"Aye." He agreed. The tower warden, Galion, welcomed them and the squires took their horses as they dismounted. He bowed before both Elendil and Gil-galad.

"Welcome lords, we are honored to keep you as guests here in Amon Sul, for a long journey is ahead of you tomorrow." He told them. It seemed to Anariel that news of the council reached far and wide. Elendil nodded toward him and they continued their converse. Meanwhile, Isildur had approached Anariel hesitantly.

"You are not angry with me?" He asked. Anariel sighed twining her arm with his.

"I was thinking of Anarion," she said softly, "And the more I think how easily I could lose you the more petty anger seems to me." Her emerald eyes met his silver ones for a moment and they held it in mutual understanding.

"I am sorry." Isildur told her honestly. Anariel shook her head as they trailed behind Gildor and the others.

"Do not be," Anariel told him, "You care for me as fiercely as I care for both you and Anarion. I know very well you would die for my sake just as I would die for yours." Isildur placed his arm tightly around her shoulders and kissed her quickly on the forehead. 

"I know that as well." He whispered.

*

There was a great feast in the tower hall that night. Elendil and Gil-galad were seated in high places of honor and Isildur and Anariel with them. Galion and the other guards and their captains entertained them as they spoke of old times, of war, and of things to come. There was laughter echoing through the walls of the tower and the smell of wine, mead, and food was thick in the air. Some local minstrels played dancing tunes in the corner. "Shall I have this dance?" asked Isildur with a grin holding out his hand. Anariel smiled.

"Indeed, my lord!" She said and so they danced enjoying their moment of peace before the morrow came.

*

Gil-galad watched as brother and sister danced fondly on the ground below. Elendil leaned back as well as he watched them but a shadow flickered across his gaze, "I pray Anarion is well." He said quietly. 

"My friend," said Gildor next to him, "If anything has happened to Anarion since the time we left Osgilliath and by the time we reach Imladris we would have known, or will know, take peace a while and know that for the moment Osgilliath still stands." Gil-galad knew the other's thoughts as he looked at Elendil's expression. _But at what cost? _Gil-galad sighed deeply. 

"Who else do you suppose gained an invitation to the Council at Imladris?" asked Gildor trying to change to a brighter subject even though the prospects of the council's discussions were not that bright.

"The elves of Lorien and Mirkwood, certainly." said Gil-galad, "And of course the men of Gondor and Arnor, as well as ourselves." Elendil's creased his brow.

"What of the Dwarves?" asked Elendil. Gildor nearly choked on his drink and Gil-galad laughed for the first time that night. 

"The _dwarves_?!" asked Gildor his voice hitting a high pitch in surprise.

"My friend, if there be any dwarves who would arrive to such a council, if the Lady Galadriel did send any invitation, then it would be to Durin's Folk from Moria." Gil-galad replied though his mind entertained the thought if there were to be any dwarves.

"I would like to place a bet on this!" Gildor told him. Elendil cocked an eyebrow.

"With your High King?" he asked. Gil-galad raised his hands in defense.

"I was only speculating!" Gildor smiled at the other. Elendil looked on amused taking another draught of his drink.

"Indeed? And yet your voice seemed quite sure that there were dwarves involved…" Gildor said raising an eyebrow. Gil-galad leaned in close to the other across Elendil.

"You would place a bet with someone far older than you, Gildor?" asked Gil-galad some mischief in his eyes.

"Faugh! Indeed!" exclaimed Elendil, "Even I find it unwise to place a bet with Gil-galad."

"I'll dare for the sake of amusement only." said Gildor. "But what should be our stakes?" Gil-galad leaned back in his chair grinning wondering what he could possibly do with the representative of Imladris if he won. _But I am going to win… _he thought… _my speculation is usually far from wrong._

"I smell trouble coming your way Gildor of Imladris." Elendil warned in jest.

"If there should be dwarves at the Council, Gildor, then you shall have to publicly claim your love for Elrond." Gil-galad told him grinning. "And I _don't_ mean the love between a servant and his master." Now it was Elendil's turn to choke on his drink at the thought and the older man laughed heartily. Gildor gaped at the elven-king for a moment then smiled.

"Well in that case," said Gildor, "I say that if there be no dwarves at the council then you should dress as an elven maid for a night while we're there." 

"Glory to Aman!" laughed Elendil, "Either way this should be interesting, though I cannot see Gil-galad wearing the gown of an elven maid at all."

"What is so funny?" came a familiar voice from behind them. Anariel wrapped her arms around her father from behind him and Isildur sat by Gildor. Elendil looked up at his daughter, to whom he had not spoken to since their argument. Gil-galad was happy that they had finally decided to make amends with each other.

"Nothing in particular." said Gildor, "But just let us say that you shall see when we arrive at Imladris." Gil-galad smiled catching her eyes once more but then teared himself away again. _This is torment, _thought the elven king.

Elendil shook his head, "Elves do not cease to amaze me."

*

That night Gil-galad walked silently up the high tower to the top. He had heard Anariel wake and leave her room and wondered where she walked off to. _That is an excuse, _Gil-galad scolded himself, _you want to be in her presence again, to speak with her. _He came up to the top, and saw her leaning against the stone walls. Her sillouhette shined in the silver light of a waxing moon and she wore only her night shift and her gray wool robe. Her red hair was let loose, unbraided and unkempt and Gil-galad walked up slowly not wanting to disturb her thoughts so soon since he had a feeling she knew what they were.

She was facing southeast, toward Osgilliath.

"He shall be well, my lady." Gil-galad said softly as if answering to her thoughts. She didn't turn around and neither did she make any sign that she was startled.

"I know." She said quietly.

"You cannot sleep?" He asked as he approached her slowly and stood next to her looking out, his elven sight already catching the peaks of the Misty Mountains and he thought for a moment that he felt the shadow beyond them. _Oropher must be fighting hard. _His thoughts stretched out to the King of the wood-elves of Mirkwood. Somewhere deep in those forests his people fought the orcs and the wargs and other evil things that lied there. _I wonder if he too shall be at the Council, if it is possible for him to arrive…_

"Nay, I cannot." She said quietly, "I fear for Anarion." Gil-galad sighed deeply.

"I too have those across the eastern border that I fear for." He told her. "There is another kinsmen among elves, Oropher of the place mortals call Mirkwood. Sauron's forces have already invaded his lands and it has been long since I have heard from him and even for Galadriel of Lothlorien I fear." Anariel tightened her cloak around her whether from cold or from anxiousness he did not know. Her eyes were cast down once again. Gil-galad could not take her behavior toward him anymore. He put a hand upon her shoulder and lifted her chin.

"Why is it that you tear your gaze from me, my lady?" He asked her and then managed a smile, "You say my eyes are too radiant to gaze upon, but alas! If they glowed I would be made easy target for every enemy nearby!" Anariel smiled at him and once more he felt light-headed about her. 

"My lord, you shine too brightly, and for that reason one must know you well not be blinded by your brightness." She answered him softly.

"Then perhaps we should come to know each other," Gil-galad said though a warning came from behind his mind as her gaze held his with some fear behind it, "As friends for I love my friends and I would have you be among them, Anariel." _Why do those sound like extensively stubpid words for an elf? And out of all elves how am I at a loss of words?_

She was beautiful and strong of will and from that moment Gil-galad realized he desired her. _I am falling into her gaze…and methinks that she is falling into mine. _He glanced at her lips for a moment.

She was so close and he could feel her breath and hear her heartbeat and it was beating as fast as his own. She slowly pulled his hand away from her chin and turned her gaze away from his.

"I should go back to bed." She told him softly. He smiled sadly at her for it seemed they shared a single thought: This cannot be.

"Goodnight, my lady." Gil-galad said kissing her haid softly. He could see the struggle in her eyes, emotions, and he could feel the beat of her body as well and it was as his own. Yet she managed to make her way out down the steps and from his sight and from afar where Gil-galad focused his hearing her heart beat quicker than before.

She was evading him and he well knew the reason why, it was the same reasons he tried to fight off his own feelings for her. He leaned upon the towers walls his long white blond hair falling over his shoulders. This was indeed torment.

_"Aniron-lye, Anariel." _[I desire thee, Anariel.] He whispered softly and then he realized that some madness had come over him at last.

*

PLEASE REVIEW! If you love me that is… or Gil-galad… 


	7. Council at Imladris (part II)

'text' = thought or dream

_text _= thought

"text" = dialogue

_"text" _= Sindaren or Quenya

**Author's Note: yet more inner conflict…**

*

Chapter 6 – Council at Imladris (Part II)

'A pair of warm hands threaded through her long hair in calm caresses and she heard soft whispers in her ear, warm and loving words. A pair of lips drank in hers and Anariel felt a gentle throbbing in her body, a growing flame, licking against her skin, caressing, touching her softly. _Riordan… _but as she gazed upon a pair of blue eyes and golden hair sweeping against her face her surprise soon turned to longing and she found herself wanting more and only pulled him closer to her…'

Anariel sat up suddenly pulling at the sheets of her bed. Her breath was heavy and rasped and sweat beaded at her forehead. She shivered in spite of the warmth that ran through her body. She recovered looking around and gathering herself remembering where she was, in Amon Sul. She stared out the window, the sun had barely risen. Anariel's eyes quickly scanned her room.

No one was with her.

She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and fell back on her bed relieved putting her hands against her pounding head. _I have not felt such longing since… _She cut off the thought. Why had she dreamt of Gil-galad in such a way? _I have no time for such fancies anymore! Especially not with an elf! _She sat up feeling a heat rise to her cheeks. Her thoughts suddenly turned to last night and she silently wondered the possibilities of what could have been if she had allowed him to kiss her. 

Strangely the painful longing of the thought didn't let her be. 

She pulled off the blankets and got up storming to the wardrobe and slipping off her nightgown, swiftly changing into her white gown deciding to find something to distract herself with. _Why am I having a maid's fancies? Anariel wondered as she laced the back of her gown and tied her golden girdle. She took in a deep breath glancing into the looking glass and managed an amused smirk, _At least it is a better turn than the nightmares! _Her eyes fluttered shut with the memory and she realized that she indeed missed that word of warmth, that protective passion from another. _

She opened her eyes slowly staring in the looking glass as her hands absent-mindedly began to plait pieces of her long red hair. _Silly girl! she scolded herself __why would such an elf have any fancies toward me? A mortal who could not compare to the beauty or grace of the elven maids! Anariel frowned at her own thoughts. Why was she even thinking that? It was a passing fancy she had with the elven lord, nothing more._

She gazed at her own reflection steadily her eyes giving her a skeptical look. Anariel scowled at herself turning away from the mirror and putting on her boots. A knock on the door startled her and she jumped. "Come in!" She bid the guest.

For a flashing moment she had thought it was Gil-galad but was plenty relieved when she saw that it was only Gildor who smiled at her brightly.

"Good morning, my lady! I had thought you were sleeping." He told her. Anariel gave him a surrendering smile.

"Elves are not the only ones who wake up early, Gildor." She teased him. He gave her a bow.

"Well then, I have been called to escort you downstairs to breakfast, we should make it to Imladris by tonight." He added. Anariel gladly took his arm and walked downstairs with him and yet she felt stragely nervous. _No more maiden's fancies, Anariel, _she told herself, _keep your wits about you!_

Elendil, her brother, as well as Galion the tower warden and Gil-galad were already seated at the table. She smiled at all of them managing to hold on to her calm though briefly catching Gil-galad's eyes she felt a light flush color her cheeks. _Anariel! She scolded herself, _Stop this nonsense!__

Gildor held a seat out for her. It seemed to her that Elendil and Isildur were not fully awake yet.

"Good morning, my lords," Anariel greeted them managing to find her voice. Isildur mumbled a good morning and Elendil chuckled at his son.

"Seems I was not the only one who had a little too much ale the night before." Gil-galad smiled at them.

"I pray you're well enough to ride a horse, friends."

"Oh, he shall be." said Gildor, "After all 'twas he who drank the ale, not the horse." They laughed together at that in agreement and Galion began telling them the safest and quickest route into the forest vale. Anariel found her eyes straying to Gil-galad and simply admiring him though she tried very hard not to. _Cursed dream…! _she thought, _why do you plague me! I once loved and I cannot love again, not this one! Not when the roads of our fate cross two different ways!_

She forced herself to turn towards Gildor and hold some different sort of conversation.

*

Gil-galad watched Anariel curiously as he drank from his cup. It seemed to him that some war was being fought within her and he was almost certain it involved him. He smiled softly mostly at himself, _Am I that egotistical to think such things? He wondered. Even though he felt a stab of envy of the attention Gildor was receiving from her more so than him. His gaze fell upon her hair as she laughed at a jest Gildor made, and then strayed to her fair neck, her throat and her collar. Gil-galad teared his gaze away because if anyone would notice anything at the table that morning 'twould be Gildor and Gil-galad knew very well that Gildor would report all happenings to Elrond and part of Gil-galad did not want to suffer the Halfelven's amused remarks._

_Only because I teased him endlessly when he gazed upon Celebrian months back during a feast in Lindon, he smiled at the thought. It would be good to see Elrond again. He silently wondered if the Halfelf was courting the Lady of Lothlorien still, __that will be aught to see, and he grinned at the thought._

"Well then!" said Elendil standing up and finishing his food, "I shall go ready my horse! Anyone wish to join me?" Isildur, though still half awake, grogilly agreed and Galion the tower warden went with them leaving only the two elves and Anariel at the table. 

"I say," said Gildor looking at Gil-galad mischevously, "Don't we still have a bet to uphold?" Gil-galad grinned taking another draught of his drink.

"Didn't I already state that you are going to lose?" Gil-galad told him then looked toward Anariel. Gildor stood up suddenly.

"We shall see, your highness!" said Gildor, "I think I shall go ready my horse as well!" He scuttled off swiftly leaving Gil-galad alone with Anariel. _Rogue of an elf, _Gil-galad thought looking after where he had left then noticing Anariel was looking down at her plate moving her food around with her fork.

"My lady, are you well?" He asked her softly. Her emerald gaze turned up to meet his and Gil-galad saw that her torment was no less than him. Gil-galad felt a warmth shoot through him as he saw her face flush silently wondering if he could make her body flush that color as well.

"I… I am fine, my lord, just a little tired myself." _Yet you didn't seem so tired when you spoke with Gildor, _he thought then threw away the petty jealousy he had before. He smiled at her fondly.

"I hope we are not leaving to early for the lady's wishes." He told her. She cocked an eyebrow in a challenge she usually gave her brother Isildur and Gil-galad was glad to be bestowed with the familiarity of it.

"I ride as fast as you if not faster." She told him drinking from her glass. Gil-galad smirked.

"Is that so?" 

"Quite." She replied curtly. He laughed happy to be in her presence. 

"Perhaps we should have a race then some time?" She shrugged.

"Perhaps." Gil-galad glanced up at the wall where the wooden practice swords were hung.

"Well, if you can best me with horses, can you best me with swords as well?" He teased, "If you claim yourself to be as good as man?" She looked up at him suspiciously.

"Swords I can do as well, though for someone who is many millenias old and has plenty of experience I doubt I could do well against you." Anariel told him. Gil-galad glanced at her full lips for a brief moment then leapt up and took two of the wooden swords from their hooks and tossed one of them at her which she caught. He gave her a galant bow.

"Shall we?" Anariel stood up and looked at him curiously.

"I'm warning you, I'm not that good." She told him. Gil-galad shrugged.

"Perhaps I can teach you to get better then." Gil-galad beckoned her, "Try it, my lady, let me see what you're capable of and let me see what I can fix."

They practiced for a while and Anariel proved to be very apt of wielding a sword, parrying his blows, and dodging his attacks. As Gil-galad became fiercer with her she equalled in his ferocity and continued blocking him. For a moment Gil-galad smiled mischevously at her and with a swift movement disengaged her weapon and pinned her from behind bringing her back against his chest. 

Anariel's breath had become heavy with effort and her body warm and Gil-galad found his own body quicken against her. He could smell the perfume in her long hair and feel the heat through her long gown. _She is wondrous… And his eyes closed a moment from the thought and then he opened them again._

"Do you yield, my lady?" Gil-galad asked only to find his own breath laboring though not from the sword play. Anariel managed to turn her head toward him and Gil-galad found his lips grazing the her cheek and the edge of her own. 

"No," She whispered and her eyes captured his for a long moment and they both understood the other's desire. Gil-galad's lips upturned to a smile and he leaned closer to her lips and…

"My lord… are you ready?" came a hesitant voice from just outside the galley. _Curse, Gildor… _Gil-galad turned up to the other elf his eyes almost venomous as he reluctantly released Anariel from his grip.

"Yes, Gildor." said Gil-galad feeling slightly flustered for an elf. _Flustered? _came Gildor's thoughts to him as the younger elf smirked, _that is unbecoming for an elven king! _The elven king gave hus subordinate a look that meant he was in no mood for jesting.

"We were just playing with swords." said Anariel her cheeks flushed crimson as Gil-galad gathered his cloak still looking at her longingly. Gildor bowed toward her.

"I would have placed my bet that you would have beaten him any day." Gil-galad grinned.  
"You have a knack for losing bets." Gil-galad said dryly as he handed Anariel her own cloak. Anariel took it and quickly made haste toward the stables passing Gildor. 

_My lord, I may be your servant but I feel you are making a mistake in fancying this lady not only for yourself but for her as well, _Gildor's thoughts whispered to him. Gil-galad sighed feeling the other's caring and concern.

_I find myself desiring her ever more, Gildor… _he whispered back his thoughts. Gildor smiled sympathetically.

"I think we should make haste to Imladris and perhaps you should voice your feelings to Elrond." Gildor told him. Gil-galad looked at the other dubiously as he followed Gildor toward the stables.

Before the Council I shall be with Anariel, he sighed deeply pulling his cloak around him. 

'Anariel…'

*

MANY HOURS LATER

*

Imladris

The House of Elrond shined in the valley of forest and rivers where it was settled. Anariel was happy for the cool breeze and found herself enchanted by the forests. Elven pages came out and took their horses and Anariel dismounted her gaze falling at the beauty of the elven home. "It is beautiful, is it not?" Came Gil-galad's voice from behind her. 

Gil-galad. She had tried so hard to avoid him since breakfast. Since they almost…

Anariel managed a smile. "Indeed 'tis." She told him softly. A raven haired elf with silver eyes and long maroon velvet robes came down the steps to greet them. He smiled warmly and bowed.

"Welcome friends, to Imladris, you are the first to arrive!" He told them thought a smile crossed his face as he met Gil-galad's gaze. Anariel watched the two since they seemed to know each other very well.

"Pardon me," Gil-galad said to all of them a sparkle in his eye, "I am going to do something very informal right now." And he laughed and jumped up pulling the raven haired elf into a warm embrace.

_"Suilad, Elrond Peredhil, mellon-iaur! Na vedui! Mae govannen!" _[Greetings, Elrond Halfelven, old friend! At last! Well met!] Elrond, lord of Imladris also laughed, some old mirth in his eyes as well as he looked to his friend.

"Long are the years since we have last spoken, Ereinion Gil-galad, joy fills my heart to see you again." Elrond said and then he stepped forward and embraced Elendil and Isildur as well and then his eyes fell on Anariel and she found his gaze unnerving. _As if he can read everything about me… Her father weaved his arm in hers._

"Lord Elrond," he said, "Allow me to present to you my youngest child, Anariel." Elrond bowed taking her hand and planting a kiss upon it and smiling warmly.

"Well met, Lady of Gondor, the last I saw you you were but a babe in your father's arms and you have grown fair indeed!" Anariel bowed her head toward him. 

"I thank you, my lord." She told him softly. Voices came from behind.

"Father!" Called out one. Anariel glanced up at two strong and tall dark haired grey eyed men and grinned. Isildur's expression brightened.

"Elendur! Aratan!" He exclaimed and embraced his two sons warmly. 

"They have grown to look like you, Isildur!" Anariel exclaimed as she looked at her two nephews, "And where is my little one?" She asked her eyes searching for Valandil.

"Aunt Anariel is here as well?" asked Elendur as he hugged her and kissed her fondly, "Valandil is with mother in the courtyard, we only knew of your coming because we saw you from afar." He told her. Anariel laughed.

"Well indeed, you have gained the eyesight of elves I see!" Aratan looked at her abashed. Anariel felt very happy to see them again.

"Indeed," came another voice familiar to all their ears even though it seemed terribly weary. Anariel gaped toward another bearded figure, tall and noble with a healing gash across his head wearing elven robes as well. _I don't believe my eyes…!_

"Anarion!" She exclaimed and ran up to him and hugged him. Anarion laughed hugging his sister tightly. 

"Ah!" said Elrond, "A vague mistake on my part, you are not the first to arrive here as Council guests, the second, for Anariel has come here before you!" Elendil and Isildur also embraced Anarion glad to see him well but then Elendil voiced the thoughts that suddenly came to Anariel's heart as well.

"What of Osgilliath?" He asked the other.

Anarion's expression became crestfallen and then they all feared the worse.

"Osgilliath has been leveled to rubble." 

*

Elrond insisted that his guests speak of these things later, they were all weary from their journeys and were in no need of ill news now. "There shall be time to discuss ill news later, let me assure you." He told them grimly, "For the moment rejoice in your reunion for you are all alive and well and safe within my borders for the time being, until something is decided." Elrond sighed deeply inwardly watching as the heirs of his brother reunited within the courtyard with Isildur's wife and his youngest son Valandil. He then turned toward Gil-galad and Gildor who were in turn greeting Erestor.

"How fares Lindon, friend?" asked Elrond not able to supress a smile.

"All is well." said Gil-galad with a great sigh, "For the time being." Elrond smiled at his old friend.

"Time has passed swiftly." Elrond said softly. Gil-galad smiled back the same grim tension behind his eyes.

"Doesn't it always for our people?" asked the other.

"I suppose." Elrond said with a shrug, "But I am glad to see you again and more glad to have you back here, so I find it upsetting that we always end up meeting only at times of crisis." Gil-galad smiled.

"Someday it shall change, and we shall meet each other again in West in times of peace."

"At least we have that to look forward too." said Gildor coming in and then he looked at Gil-galad mischevously, "Don't you have something to tell Elrond?" Elrond cocked an eyebrow toward Gildor and Gil-galad scowled.

"Gildor, don't _you have something to say to Elrond?" Gil-galad countered. Gildor smiled sweetly at the other._

"I see no dwarves here yet, so if you want me to uphold my part of the bet I'd hope you'd best uphold yours." Elrond glanced at both of them suspiciously.

"What is going on that I should know about?" Gil-galad grinned at the raven-haired elf.

"Have you invited dwarves to this council by any chance?" asked the elven king.

"I have not." said Elrond and Gildor broke into a wolfish grin, "But Galadriel…"

"Don't say _but!" Gildor exclaimed suddenly. Elrond looked at the other as if he was mad. Gil-galad laughed._

"Go on!" said the elven king.

"Galadriel has invited Durin of Moria to attend since they hold anger against the dark lord." Elrond said. Gil-galad looked at Gildor.

"Now what was that about our bet…?" Gildor gaped then shook his head quickly.

"I recall the bet being whether or not Lord Elrond invited dwarves to the council, he did not, so I win!" He argued. Gil-galad looked at the other still grinning.

"So now you give in to excuses, _mellon?" asked Gil-galad, "That was not our bet. Our bet was whether or not dwarves were going to __attend the council."_

"I… you… can't…" but Gildor was at a loss of words, "Wasn't this all in jest?"

"Bets must always be honored." Gil-galad told the other innocently. The Lord of Imladris looked to them both.

"What were the stakes of this bet?" Elrond asked.

"He wants me to…" Gil-galad jumped up and covered Gildor's mouth.

"Noooo…" Gil-galad chided, "You'll ruin the fun of it!" Gildor gave him an irritated look.

"I am never placing bets with you again." He said and ran off. Gil-galad laughed.

"This evening friend! I want your honor!" called out the elven king. Elrond settled himself on a couch glad for the jests between them even though he wasn't fully sure what they were about.

"But what is it you have to say to me, my lord?" Elrond asked curiously looking at Gil-galad. The elven king sighed and Elrond noticed a strange emotion flicker in his eyes. Gil-galad waved it away.

"Nothing of import, Elrond." He told the elven lord and then he sighed, "When shall the others arrive?" He asked desiring to change subject. Elrond looked at the elder elf curiously.

"Cirdan and his men should arrive tomorrow. Galadriel and Celeborn as well as Oropher possibly in three days time and I would not doubt that Durin of Moria travels with them." Elrond told him, "After that a day shall be spent in rest and feasting and the council will convene the evening after." Gil-galad smiled another thought taking him.

"But you must tell me, how fares the Lady of Lothlorien?" Elrond blinked but his expression didn't betray him.

"Galadriel is well." Elrond said placidly. 

"That is not what I meant and you know it." Gil-galad said, "I was talking about Celebrian." The elven king's grin grew and amusement filled his eyes when he saw some rosiness color the elven lord's cheeks. It is very hard for elves to blush so Gil-galad found this to his amusement to no end.

"She is also well." Elrond managed to reply.

"Really?" Elrond blushed harder. 

"Ereinion…"

Gil-galad laughed happy to be with his friend once more.

*

SIGH… it's so beautiful… REVIEW PLEASE!!!


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